Hey.
It’s been a year since quarantine started, which, in a moment of magnificent serendipity, was when I was really getting into Death Stranding. But that was quite literally 365 days ago, and I gotta say, this is not how I saw this past year going.
Back in July, I started making a tally of my days in quarantine, backdating it to be accurate. It started as a funny bit, but I stopped after a few months because not only did I begin to run out of chalkboard, but it began to look like a cry for help.
Again, it’s been a whole frickin’ year. A year since I sat in a bar with friends, a year since I had a game night in person, a year since I got to sit in a damn movie theater.
It’s surreal, too, because around me I see things opening back up. Some states in the US decided that the pandemic is over and it’s now safe to go do All The Things. Life is returning around the city here, even though the positivity rate is still a non-negligible amount. It’s hard not to feel like a Cassandra still taking precautions and hoping we don’t trip over the finish line and I’ve gotta wait another chunk of time before getting to do any of the things in the prior paragraph again.
It’s… odd to reflect on the past year, especially on a public blog where I usually overanalyze pop culture. Like many other people, I had plans for the year; maybe not concrete tangible plans, but plans to Do Things. With things at an effective standstill, it’s hard not to look back on the last year as something of a wash, especially with regards to everything. Which is a very circuitous way to say that time has no meaning and these past 365 days have sucked.
But I know I’m fortunate. I have friends, many of whom have migrated online to group chats and Discord servers (Discord is truly wonderful). We still have our game nights, though they look a little differently than they once did and, through some technological wizardry, the occasional movie night too. I haven’t caught Covid and, as of this post, have gotten the first jab of the vaccine (with the second in a couple weeks). When my biggest complaint of the past year is the standstill of life and a case of cabin fever but no threats to health or finances, I’m truly lucky.
Still been a rough year, though.
So here we are, in March, again. Still kicking. Still doing the thing. Still trying to get stuff done.
Let’s hope we’re not still here in another year.
(So, hey, Americans, please stay home as much as you can)
Essays, Not Rants! 