Pandemic Waxing Nostalgic
Looks like there’s light at the end of this pandemic tunnel. Just what we’ve been waiting for, am I right? I mean… AM I right? Because to be honest, there are parts of this pandemic I’ll miss. Never before was there a better excuse for getting out of things I didn’t want to do. Covid, for all its ills, was the ultimate free pass and I’m having a hard time imagining life without it.
During Covid, my life was like a fossil frozen in amber of globally sanctioned inertia. Plans were not just dashed; they were done for. Everything was excused. A holiday from have-to. Permission to procrastinate. A not-entirely-bad situation. School fairs, destination vow renewals, PAP smears, in-law visits, all things-DMV, political fundraisers, colonoscopies…boy, how I didn’t miss you.
I grew to appreciate my Zoom life full of Zoom book clubs and Zoom cocktails. Where else but on Zoom can you connect with friends you love and mute them at the click of a switch? Covid introduced me to Barefoot Contessa Ina Garten and Ina and I spent many a blissful, drunken afternoon cooking together. How I’ll miss her. And sweatpants. And sweatpant elastic. Am I really saying goodbye to sweatpants? Is it really bye-bye to watching every single Bravo show? Do I now have to admit that walking is not exercise? Thankfully all that obsessive thinking about making my children’s art projects into scrapbooks was shelved by the realization that such folly would cut into my watching every single Bravo show. But now, well, what now?
The pandemic forced me to recognize that much of what I was doing pre-Covid was superfluous, like cooking or seeing a dentist. Under the cover of Covid, it was permissible to table, delay and avoid. Even forced social niceties were made to take a rest. You want me to hold that elevator door for you? Sorry, Miss No-Mask, I ride alone. You want to chat, person on line in front of me at Trader Joe’s? Sorry. Your cat sounds like a hoot but I’m going to need you to stand where I definitely can’t hear you. You want a hug? Sorry but I wasn’t into you even before Covid.
What will happen to the skills I honed? Does anyone care that I groomed my own dog, cut my sons’ hair, dyed my roots, and went without a housekeeper, manicurist, Botox and bikini waxing for 178 days? I mean, who am I… Laura Ingalls Wilder??!! It was only on the eve of getting vaccinated that I perfected the art of urinating in a mason jar while driving, and though my husband does not share my enthusiasm for being able to pee at 60mph while changing lanes, it’s a ritual I may keep up long after Covid is in the rearview mirror. “Rearview” and ‘mirror’ being two problematic words for me presently. Damn you, Barefoot Contessa!
There are, however, those grander goals, hatched long before Covid, that call for my attention, waving their inoculated arms at me in a frenzy, demanding to be resurrected. And now what excuse can I use? My foggy quarantined brain was my pass from writing. Lack of gym access kept me fat. A thousand things were put on hold: I wanted to start a podcast, write a screenplay, make a Tik Tok dance go viral, repaint my house, delete old emails and become an Instagram star. But I didn’t because I was too busy advising mothers on the Grown and Flown Facebook group about which prom dress their daughter should wear. And while I’m on that subject, listen, Grown and Flown, I am happy to lend my opinion (and it’s one you should definitely listen to) but what are you doing letting the Internet have a say? You don’t know these psychopaths! To the mother who asked the G&F community if she should have a third child, I’m advising you to get out of your house right now and make some friends. Build a pod, do what you have to do, but do not leave family planning up to an online community just biding time until they have to do something with their children’s art projects.
So while for me, it’s not a fully fond farewell to this pandemic, it is time to get back to life and resume what’s been on hold for more than a year. Here’s to all that, to seeing those we love, resuming living life to the fullest, being grateful for what we gained. And, as my loving husband would say, here’s to bikini waxes.
