“to maintain the lifestyle you’ve grown accustomed to”
That shit used to crack me up when I read it on the divorce papers and legal documents I was delivering to King County Superior Court. Now it cracks me up for different reasons as I roll around mumbling to myself or talking to crows. I just want to keep doing the same things and expecting the same results. To feel like I have some control over something. Anything. Any little thing. Because I know every little thing is not going to be alright. A 12oz drip coffee. That’s right. The name is “Mark” same shit different day no words exchanged just a smile and a thank you and a see you tomorrow. The barista knows me as a model of consistency. Same shit different day. No need to waste time on the details. It’s not so much that I love routine. It’s that I’d like to use that bandwidth to ponder other things. And I think it’s hilarious that baristas remember me 18 months later and start pouring my coffee when I walk through the door. The crows know me too because they know I’ll share a snack with them.
Speaking of snacks, let this vending machine serve as an illustration, an example, a metaphor, a parable if you will…
For 18 months it was empty. Picked clean and not to be restocked until further notice. There was no food because there were no people to eat it. I got used to it. Seeing nothing but my own reflection looking back at me. Not that I’d buy the shit in there. It was all about knowing that it was there. But it wasn’t. And now it is. And that back-to-school feeling isn’t just a vague sensation in the pit of my stomach. It’s a full-on gut punch.
I’d like to take this moment to acknowledge the return of 55,000 people to campus: undergraduates, law students, graduate students, faculty and staff. As well as all the service suckers, spoon feeders, vendors, delivery trucks, electric scooters, jump bikes, meter maids, shuttles and metro busses that accompany all those people. I’m not ready to say “welcome back” because I’m not exactly sure how I feel about it.
somebody’s got a case of the:
don’t-know-what-you-got-til-it’s-gones
or maybe it’s the:
be-careful-what-you-wish-fors
perhaps it’s just:
post-pre-post-pandemic-depression
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