If the last three or so weeks have been great for you, congratulations on being the exception to the rule. Please respect the rest of us and stop smiling in our directions. The last three+ weeks, I would estimate that 100% of conversations with my friends have started with “how are you,” moved into “ya know, tired, working, same old,” and then tiptoed carefully into “actually, I feel sort of [choose from the following] numb, frustrated, wiped out, like the world is imploding, everything feels so hard lately” and then we enter what’s known clinically as commiseration.
Over dinner with a friend last week, I was the one to tiptoe into “actually, I’m sort of frustrated and anxious because of work and dating is a desert and there are so many causes to give a shit about that I can’t give a shit about any, and and and…” To prove my point as violently as possible, I picked up my wine glass and mimed smashing it against the edge of the table, saying that I planned to use the shards to threaten the powers that be. My friend didn’t flinch. Barely even got a giggle out of her, because it would seem that that’s where we’re all at right now. We’re all about to finish our Chablis and then weaponize our stemware.
But then, as is wont to happen, I ran up against roadblocks to my tired, frustrated state. Specifically, I slowed down and talked to friends; I was afforded the chance to hear the legendary and inspiring (and 100 year old) Norman Lear in conversation; and Mercury stopped retrograd-ing. And if you’re rolling your eyes at the mention of astrology, I would point you to the newly proven fact that the universe is not “locally real” anyway, so believe what you want.
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