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Writer's pictureelizabeth

January, 2021, already? Really?

I guess it has been a while, but things do not change that much around here. The pandemic drags on with little hope of resolution any time in the near future. I got all excited, as I managed to sign up for a vaccination clinic, only to find out that California is totally screwing things up with the rest of the nation.


It turned out that I was not among those eligible to get the vaccination; they turned hundreds of people, who had signed up, away for the same reason. Now, it appears they do not have enough of the vaccine, so it is anybody's guess when our time will come.


Of course the reality is that having a vaccination would not really change things. It might give a little bit of security that one will not die of Covid-19, but it would not change life as we have come to know it. We still would need to take precautions, we would not be able to gather, and no one knows if someone, who has been vaccinated, is still capable of infecting others.


Hanukkah, Christmas, and New Year's all passed with little excitement. I was only able to celebrate with my son; my sister is too far away, and my daughter has apparently decided to disown me. I am not feeling sorry for myself; I am simply stating what is.


I find it ironic that one of the gifts I received upon retirement was a clock that shows the days of the week, as opposed to the time of day. Lately, I find myself relying on it and the newspaper to figure out what day it is. They all feel pretty much the same, and for someone who used to look down her nose at people who spend a great deal of time watching television, that is precisely who I have become. The lesson? Be careful who you criticize, as you may be that person someday.


Meanwhile, I await Biden's inauguration on Tuesday, but with bated breath, since I worry there may be more violent uprisings. It is hard for me to believe where we have come as a nation; selfish people who care only about themselves and what they can have right this minute. During the sixties, I embraced the ideal of a gentle society who would look after one another, sharing our gifts and taking only what we need, but it seems we have moved further away from peace, further away from community, and further away from love. How the hell did that happen?


The good news is that I am one of the fortunate ones who has a roof over my head, most of my needs met, and a puppy dog who loves me unconditionally. A friend asked me if I plan to stay in my house for the next several years, until progress against this virus is achieved, and the answer is that is exactly what I plan to do. There really is not much choice, and although emotionally, I feel like I am fading away, it could be so much worse.


It reminds me of the Arlo Guthrie song where he says, "Think of the last guy. No one has got it worse than he has." Well, I am not that guy, so I suppose I feel pretty damn grateful.

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