Sick of This

I’m not fine.

We’re going on, like, week 8 of isolation. I have not finished my novel, organized my garage, or taken homeschooling to a whole new level. I have gained 5 pounds, sampled several grocery delivery services, over-consumed news, and worried about everything from how to make it through the next day to mankind’s downfall.

I’m all over the place.

I had a job interview via Microsoft Teams in the middle of it all too. Although I did not get the job, it was a diversion for a week or so. It was for a social studies position – which I’m qualified to teach – but it’s not my passion, and I’m sure on some level, that conveyed itself in the interview. Still. It’s disappointing.

Silver linings? I suppose there are a few. My skin looks great from all the extra rest and lack of makeup. My gratitude level for my health is skyrocketing.

I think, though, that the mental health toll from this pandemic is going to be huge. I miss hugging my friends. I miss seeing them in person. I miss going into the schools every day and earning money. It’s depressing.

I know it will end, and I hope to be there – healthy and well – when it does. I hope to be fully employed and able to help local businesses make a come back. I hope we’re all there – afterward – in a big group hug and looking at each other with love and appreciation. I hope.

Because frankly? I’m sick of this.

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