Never in My Life

Never in my life did I envision a day when I’d conference with my coworkers via video while looking professional from the waist up and homeless from the waist down, decide in March that the only Christmas gift worth discovering under the tree is toilet paper, or find myself on a quest for face masks and matching gloves. Which also would make nice gifts, now that I think of it.

Never in my life did I think I’d be consumed with worry that the people I love will get sick, be sick with longing to see them (and be permitted to hug them), and obsessed with finding a way to make the six-hour drive from Virginia to New Jersey without having to stop to use a public restroom. I guess I could rent an RV but that’s a pretty penny and since the unemployment commission still hasn’t figured out how to get me the many pennies it owes me, it’s not an option. I could go the adult diaper route but the thought of being stopped for whatever and possibly being told to step out of the car while looking like Baby Huey would put me in a psych ward. No doubt next to the cop who stopped me. I’ve even considered making the entire trip without consuming any kind of liquid but worry I’d arrive dehydrated, delirious, and forced to make a detour to the emergency room. Which of course is better than the psych ward but not by much.

Never in my life did I think I’d be told to stay home, then told it’s ok to go out — but…