Rough Re-Entry to “Life”

I really don’t like scary movies. Anything that has a plot of being stalked while falling down in the woods, or resurrecting anyone from the dead… I am solidly against it. And yet there is something about these themes that is feeling familiar lately.

You see, we have been going through this surreal pandemic experience and when it began all those many months (OK more than a year ago) we had no idea how long it would last. We, at first, imagined we’d go back to our usual lives soon. I don’t know about you, but what I never considered was each and every day my life was, in fact, changing. It was morphing. How I lived my life was being altered in teeny, tiny imperceptible ways and also glaringly obvious ways. While this was happening, I kept telling myself this was temporary. Within that mindset, there was this idea that we could go back, that there would be a return to our lives, to normal, whatever you want to call it.

I feel like that is beginning to happen. My old life is essentially resurrecting itself. Old commitments that were off-limits just months ago are trying to find their way back into my days. Work responsibilities that were never any further than my home office are now book-ended by drive time. What I have failed to give proper attention to is that I have been living an entirely different life for 18 months, and now these two lives are colliding. 

It’s not going well. It seems that my two lives don’t like each other very much. Apparently, whatever skill I had honed at adulting has fallen by the wayside and been replaced by Netflix, afternoon walks around the block, and my cat being one of my best friends.

I have forgotten what life feels like not wearing stretchy pants every day and, as I have become fond of saying, I am about 40% feral. I was never very adept at small talk and now I am abysmal. I hear this voice in my head say things like, now you are supposed to say something and yet I am drawing a blank. Sometimes I am so excited to see someone in person and then after about 15 minutes the intensity of in-person interaction begins to fatigue me. I am an introvert, to be sure, but this is even uncharacteristic for me. 

Then I wonder, is it just me? Am I just weird? I mean, yeah I know I am weird but as far as this phenomenon goes? 

I assume that much like breaking in a pair of shoes, soon all of this will begin to feel comfortable again. I tell myself that before long it will feel second-nature to hug my friends and freely share food or, gasp, a drink. 

After all this rambling, I think actually this is a disclaimer that if you see me in person in, let’s say, the next 6 months and I seem odder than normal you will know what’s up. Please don’t take it personally, I have simply forgotten how to be in social interaction with other humans and my lives are in a battle with each other. I am not sure which will win and I am not sure if it’s kosher to pick sides, is it? 

All this driving, and traffic, and how’s the weather has gotten my brain jumbled up. Not to mention, I am a little skittish because I hate scary movies and what’s a girl to do when her old life is back from the dead?

Sunshine & Sarcasm,
Lowi & G

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