Me, my sister-in-law Sarah, and Anjali at dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, FlintCreek in Seattle, 2018.
"We should get together soon."
Words I've yearned to hear yet simultaneously dreaded.
I've grown accustomed to this antisocial lifestyle. I've desperately wanted more time to write, but the idea of going back to the way things were (before my children are vaccinated, at least) is also a bit terrifying.
Over my month-long hiatus I got into a better routine with my plants; almost got my kids caught up with all their school projects and even my home projects for them; got fully vaccinated (yay); and probably started around forty musings, all left unfinished from each interruption I was seemingly unable to recover from.
But they are starts, and this new path toward normalcy is a start. And I'm going to try my hardest to embrace it all.
Summer Break is two weeks away, and I'll be free from ever hearing the phrase "Learning Coach guided" — what their online school refers to the co-educator (me) as — from my kids ever again.
I'll hopefully be able to write more and socialize safely with fellow vaccinated friends.
My kids will finally get to see “the new normal” on the horizon, and that line will actually move closer for the first time in over a year.
But, how do we even socialize anymore?
I've found great peace amongst chaos with a rigid routine that the idea of making more time for a social life again feels impossible. Dangerous, even.
I’m doing so well without people.
Being Autistic, I dig in deep with routines, and maybe even self-isolation.
Pre-pandemic I went to the same coffee shops, ordering the same exact coffee drinks every time. God-forbid they ever ran out of almond milk (happened twice) and I stood there, frozen, unable to compute what to do next. The barista offered alternatives, but none of them were almond milk so I remained stuck like that until I calmed myself enough to remember that I always carry Lactaid with me and this one time, it's okay that something isn’t as I expected. I just ordered 2% milk with the espresso. (Sure, I still ended burpy, bloated, and phlegmy for the rest of the day, but I was no longer holding up the line.)
I don't miss those unexpected interactions in public. At home, I have a family who's aware that Mom can't handle X, and if I need a rest I can go take one; and if I need help with something that to some may seem inconsequential, my husband is there to help or will help me recover.
But I miss time to myself, away from the family. I miss friends.
I miss independence.
And I can't wait to get those moments back, no matter how stressful they actually were/might be again.
I can’t wait until my kids can get more safe, independent time themselves.
I can’t wait to reach “the new normal” I keep stumbling upon online.
My best,
Sara
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Here are 5 more things:
- Over my hiatus I read Humankind: A Hopeful History, and — although it clearly wasn’t written by an American during the pandemic — it left me feeling hopeful for the future. (It left me feeling like maybe I don’t need to constantly look for other countries to move to....)
- Over the break I also finished reading DIY MFA and took diligent notes on it. My goal is to get through all the writing craft books I bought last year (when I thought I’d have nothing but time...), and grow as a writer while I’m at it. Currently I’m working my way through VOICE: The Secret Power of Great Writing.
- People aren’t “addicted” to wearing masks, they’re traumatized.
- A once-in-a-lifetime chance to start over.
- “You have to remember that the hard days are what make you stronger. The bad days make you realize what a good day is. If you never had any bad days, you would never have that sense of accomplishment!” —Aly Raisman