...and a little of that human touch," Bruce Springsteen sang in 1992.
Here we are on what I think is Week 6 (borderline of Week 7?) of “staying at home.” Facemasks are fashionable (and mandatory) attire; six feet isn’t referred to as an average male height but rather a distance to which I have to adhere; and I’m not allowed outside my apartment unless it’s an essential activity (aka grocery shopping).
Oh, and I spend more time on TikTok than a 28-year-old should (but you probably didn’t need to know that).
I’ve kept in touch via video chatting and social media, but what I’ve come to realize over the last couple of weeks is maybe I do enjoy spending time with people more than I thought. I deemed myself an “extroverted introvert” who experiences social anxiety in large groups, and although that is still very true, I miss true human interaction.
I miss going to a restaurant with friends. I miss calling my brother and telling him to get his sneakers on because we’re going on a hike. I miss the act of going to a movie theater or shopping at a mall. I miss hopping onto a plane and jetting off to see my parents and the rest of my family. I miss the simple acts of hugging and kissing. All these things I took for granted for my entire life, and not knowing when I’ll be able to do any of these things again is agonizing.
What makes all of this mildly bearable is knowing everyone is experiencing these feelings, but at the same time it makes it worse. There’s absolutely nothing we can do except stay at home, wash our hands and hope for a cure.
I guess some good’s come of this. I was laid off from a job I absolutely despised and making more money with unemployment than I did with my job (how disgustingly sad). I’ve watched more than 50 movies in three weeks — we currently watched our 69th yesterday — with a large majority being ones I’d never seen. My roommate and I have cooked basically every meal together, and in doing so, boosted his cooking confidence. And we’re out the door every morning by 9 to go on a 2-mile walk around houses we dream to live in one day.
It’s weird to step outside and see empty LA streets and smogless air, to shop at the grocery store and not be charged 10 cents for a bag, to avoid walking on the same part of the sidewalk as someone else.
I get it; it’s the new normal. But I absolutely hate it and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind. I truly cannot wait until I can step outside my apartment — mask free, mind you — and high-five someone without the possibility of catching this horrific virus.
I miss y’all and love y’all and cannot wait to reunite during happier times.
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