Yesterday I had a meeting, it matters not where or about what, because they all start the same. Five or six people sitting around a large table, wearing an assortment of masks and observing our social distancing . This, at least, is better than the usual Zoom meetings of late. Though both start pretty much the same way. In days past, and if I try hard, I can remember those days, conversations usually started with a comment about the weather, or the traffic, for lack of anything new to talk about. Not now! I miss those days. I miss a lot of things, and that brought up a whole new topic. What do you miss in these days of COVID-19?
I miss going to the airport, well not actually going to the airport, I miss being able to fly somewhere, anywhere, I don't care where. If only there were somewhere where I could go. I don't care where. Somewhere where they would let me in, where they would welcome my money like they used to. But there is nowhere.
I miss going to the door and going out and doing stuff , you know just stuff. Going without thinking about my mask and my hand sanitizer and my Clorox wipes, and whether this trip is actually necessary. Just what is necessary anyway? Is saving my sanity necessary? It didn't have to be necessary before this, I could just go out and then come back, and then go out again.
I miss planning, planning next week, next month, next year. Writing dates and things to do on my desk calendar, in my phone, on my tablet, and jotting a note in my old fashioned personal date book. We were so naive when there was a future, when today didn't look like yesterday and yesterday look like tomorrow. Next year I'm going to.....
I miss elevators, I never take elevators unless my destination is over five flights. I don't like elevators, I don't like sharing a closed space with strangers, now the thought terrifies me. If I were on the elevator and some one else got on, would they feel bad if I got off? What if I were on the tenth floor? What if there were no empty elevators? Would I be like Charlie on the MTA? Unable to ever go home again? Maybe I don't miss elevators.
I miss public transportation; I don't ride public transportation anymore. I used to ride it every day. But if I had to ride it again, I would miss it. I would miss being jammed in a train, or the 'L' or the bus and not having a seat, and having my nose five inches from the armpit of strap-hanger next to me. I would miss the groping hands of some pervert whose face I cannot see, just a disembodied hand reaching out to touch someone.
I miss climate change; oh, climate change is still here but no one talks about it anymore. I miss commiserating on how hot it is, or why we don't get ten feet of snow every winter anymore, or why the butterflies are gone, or why the polar bears don't have enough to eat. I used to worry about climate change, I miss that. I can't worry about climate change anymore, I don't have time to worry about it, even though all I have is time.
I miss buffets, even though I never went to buffets. The food looks so good in the ads. But buffets are giant petri dishes of germination, growing bacteria here-to-for never know to man. I think COVID-19 was hatched, not in the live market, but in a Chinese buffet. The hot salads are warm, and the cold salads are warmer, and they never tell you what kind of meat is in the casserole. I don't think buffets will ever come back and I shall miss them.
I miss the time when shopping at the mall was not a safari into unknown territory, and infection and disease weren't lurking in the changing rooms. Changing rooms were bad enough before, when you risked picking-up a fungus when taking off your shoes to try on a pair of jeans. I miss not thinking about keying in my pin number after that suspicious looking woman keyed in hers. When was the last time she washed her hands?
I miss the grocery store where I am always going the wrong way down the aisle, like a salmon swimming upstream. Why do grocery store now have to have one-way aisles? I miss smelling the produce to see if it smells like strawberries or smells like cardboard. You can't smell anything thru a mask. I miss buying one lemon, instead six in a bag, who needs six lemons? I miss talking to the checker face to face, but she can't see me smile because I am wearing a mask, and standing on my 'X' six feet away.
I miss sitting in a bar, not three stools away from anyone, not sharing a laugh, because nothing is funny anymore. And no one else is allowed in because there are already 25 people in the bar. I miss not checking my glass for spots but then I drink my beer from the bottle, no missing that. I miss picking a restaurant for the menu and the food, instead of picking one with outside seating.
I miss hugs, at least hugs from family and from friends, and celebratory hugs when your team scores the winning run. I miss hugs where I don't have to think about who was last hugged by this person. I never was a hugger, everyone who knows me knows that, but now I miss something that I always took for granted
I miss so much I took for granted, I miss my old life, I miss school, I miss travel, I miss days without a mask, I miss all the little things that made life so beautiful. But I know one thing, if this horrid thing ever goes away, and life comes back to normal I won't miss a thing. Until I do.
I'm just sayin'
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