It’s 6 in the morning. This thing that’s going on around the world is starting to mess with me in insidious ways.
Because I have it easy, I thought my only job was to stay at home, take care of my family, be strong, and go on working remotely.
But there’s a weariness that’s creeping in from reading about the train wreck that is the US, and that’s probably not going to stop, or the less dire but still worrying train wreck that is Europe. I’m already tired from the fight that’s going to happen AFTER all this. Because I can see the reflexes: the closing in, the xenophobia, the stupidity. And the voices calling for reason and maybe a bit of change in the way we do things are few and far between.
Because I have it easy, I feel I can’t give in to these feelings of dread and angst. After all, my trash collector, my baker all have it worse. They have to work outside, unprotected. The ladies I still see on the infrequent busses, whose job is probably to clean hospital rooms – the nurses and doctors in the emergency wards (and again, I’m in a region that’s not been hurt as hard as it could have) – these people are allowed to feel sorrow and anxiety. Me, maybe not so much. My job is secure for now, my wife’s job is secure. My kids don’t have issues at school.
But that’s maybe part of the problem: I have too much time on my hands, and it leaves me no choice but to look at the slowly collapsing world we’ve built for ourselves.