This is exhausting. Just, like, every last bit of it. The emails from coworkers who have lost loved ones, the horror of reading the news each morning to see how high the death toll has climbed, the fear that comes with being caught in a disaster whose endpoint is so completely unknowable, watching friends and family lose their jobs and incomes, the frantic sanitizing of every package dropped at the door before it can be allowed to enter our house, my wife and I sharing the burden of being full-time employees but also full-time parents with a toddler who needs to be fed and watched and entertained, the cancellation of sports and concerts and literally—and that’s not a figurative use this time!—every single social function that might have lessened the misery of this mess, the birthdays passed in isolation, the movies delayed, the restaurants closed, the toilet paper hoarded, the fear that someone I love will get sick or even die, the fear that I will get sick or even die, the walking into the street to avoid passing someone at a range of less than six feet on the sidewalk, the sheer magnitude of an event that has affected every aspect of life for everyone I know in a way that would only barely make sense in fiction.
All of that. It’s exhausting.
And, to be clear, I’ve been very fortunate in all of this. At the moment, my wife and I still have our jobs as well as the flexibility to work them from home, neither of us nor our son nor any of our immediate family members has yet contracted COVID-19. We have been lucky.
But this has all been so much. And it’s not even close to being over. It’s exhausting. I have a whole long list of posts that I’ve started or plan to write but I simply don’t have the energy. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. But we have to find a way through. And posting here gives me some small feeling of control, some sense of normalcy. So, for now, this will have to do. Stay safe and sane out there, everyone.