the coming spring

Things are looking up. It’s been a hard winter for everyone, but I think that I’m feeling optimistic.

Most of the people in my life have been or are in the process of being vaccinated. That’s the best news. Being far from my parents, it’s important to know that they are in a safer stage of this process. My fiancé is about the get her second vaccine, which only really leaves me.

I’m not against the vaccine, but I’m also not in a rush to get it. I am mostly anti-social and my job doesn’t require me to be in contact anyone. I’m also tested once a week.

I’ll certainly be signing up to get stuck, but I was my last priority. The fact that I am only a matter of days away from the possibility of the shot is a good thing, though.

Beyond the vaccine is the overwhelming feeling that things can be normal again. “Normal,” I think, will be a different standard now. But I’m looking forward to the little things. I want to eat outside at a restaurant and walk around the city. There’s a distinct possibility of going to a baseball game and, finally, going home to see my parents. The sun is out for longer, the days are warmer.

It’s all good things.

I’m ready to be back in the world. I’m certainly more reclusive than most, but even I am feeling the prolonged effects of the lock-down. A certain level of my creativity has fled me in this winter. I felt slower, lazier. I’ve had down spells before. I think I might have a shade of manic-depression in me, but this winter felt like one long, mild down spell. Things were fine. They were the equivalent of a shoulder shrug. Just fine, nothing else.

And that level of “fine” is much better than what others had to deal with. I’m sure my overall malaise would be a cake-walk for people who faced serious challenges. But my mental health was definitely not at it’s height. That hurt my productivity, my want to create things.

I think I often put in the work and went through the motions to appease myself. I produced some good stories, but nothing had the vigor of what I was writing last year.

That’s starting to change now. I feel more in touch with my writing and reading.

I feel more excited about the ideas that I have and I’m hopeful that something good will come from them. I’m a cynic at heart. But I think I need optimism. I need to feel that things can get better and, sometimes, I need to see good things happen.

I guess that’s human. You can be a cynic, but it’s nice to be proven wrong.

So, we’ll see.

For now, I think things are looking up.

ER

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