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Pandemiversary

By some measures, March 11 is the one-year anniversary of pandemic lockdown here in the USA. The NBA shut down in the middle of a game on March 11, 2020. I forgot about that. That’s wild.

I still had to go into the office for another week after that, so one year ago for me was that sort of fuzzy time where things were starting to feel apocalyptic and people were talking a lot about washing your hands properly and sanitizing your mail but life was sort of still going on.

The other day I was making small talk (remember that?) with an acquaintance (remember them?) who I hadn’t really seen in a year. In the “how’s your year been” convo, he admitted his year had actually been pretty good. I said I felt the same way, and that I sort of felt guilty about it because a lot of people had really terrible years. He agreed. There are lots of ways people have experienced this and my fine-ness and guilt about it is not unique.

In a lot of ways this pandemic has played into my general preferences: working from home; spending all day with my dog; physically avoiding other humans on the sidewalk. I’m ambivalent about travel in general and downright negative on air travel. Handshakes and hugs are awkward. Takeout is generally preferable to dine-in. I’d rather watch new movies on my couch than in a theater.

But even for someone like me, there are limits.

I started out with a strong quarantine game in March and April and it sucked. I stopped going to riding lessons. I never saw my friends. My time with Snoopy was even limited by a strict schedule meant to keep boarders separated from each other. But then summer came. I went back to riding lessons and started hanging out with friends again outdoors. I got lax. Sometimes it feels like cheating. I realize a lot of people are living the life I was living last April and have been doing so for a year and I don’t know how they’re managing it. Am I a selfish a-hole for not making that same level of sacrifice?

There’s a whole spectrum. On one end, those who are isolating with zero contact and wearing three masks on the rare occasions they do go out. On the other end, those who are huddling in large groups around trashcan fires of surgical masks, breathing in each other’s respiration and the floating particles of burning plastic. I feel confident that the maskfire partiers are in the wrong but I don’t know that my adopting the habits of a triple-mask quarantino would offer any benefits over the half measures I’ve been taking. Maybe I’m just saying that to make myself feel better.

Not knowing if I’m doing the right thing is the theme of these past 12 months, and it continued through to last week when I got my first shot. Technically my BMI puts me just over the line into tier 1c, and a generous interpretation of my job does the same thing. And getting more people vaccinated is the most important thing, whoever they are. But still. Did I cut the line? Did some at-risk elderly person miss their chance because I signed up when I did?

On the other hand, if half of Republican dudes are going to ignore their eligibility, maybe the rest of us should just step in where we can to help make some headway on the rate of immunization.

Poll graphic from linked article showing rates of vaccine willingness by demographic

Living through history is a trip.

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