Taking a little break from writing about women and men today to address what I am feeling these days ...
Fatigue. That's what I am feeling.
And I shouldn't be tired, that's what's so weird to me.
We survived this pandemic just fine. Enough food. Health insurance. Safe jobs. Freedom to work from home. We even have our first vaccine under our belts.
But we are still so tired.
This last year was both hard and heartbreaking.
So many lives lost, many needlessly.
So much strife ... over masks, over distancing, over our neighbor's safety.
Racist, sexist, xenophobic uprisings happening in violent, terrifying outbursts.
Racist, sexist, xenophobic rumblings, always just below the surface.
Politicians who would rather hold onto their positions than do the people's work.
And churches ... arguing over politics, culture war issues and conspiracy theories.
And then my own failures ...
Remember when we were going to take advantage of all the "free time "the pandemic created?
Remember that frantic, frenetic, neurotic energy falsely labeled as opportunity?
Seems a million years ago I was making a list of goals for this strange space called lock-down.
I met one goal: Make sourdough bread. All the slow claps for me. At least I kept our carb levels high.
Now, all I am is fatigued.
But, also grateful.
But ... fatigued.
And so thankful.
And so tired.
And so happy to be alive and well.