The year of 2020 has, most certainly, worn itself thin. It’s been tiring, grating, and, depressing. So much so that you have therapists basically holding sessions from sun-up to midnight. At times there seems to be no reprieve whichever way you turn. I’m still trying to have my uncharacteristically (for a New Yorker) sunny attitude going. Admittedly, there are days where I am a bit more cloudy than I’d like to be.
Despite the occasional clouds in my mind, I keep trying to push and see forward. Find clarity.
This morning I followed my usual routine. I woke up, searched for the sun, and made my coffee. While I was making my coffee, I pulled my creamer and noticed the expiration date: March 2021. Wow. The way things have been going that date might as well be set for 20 years from now. I cannot envision six months from now. Six months! Come what may. But that leaves even more anxiety within our bones. Most assuredly we want 2020 over. Perhaps a re-do. Many of us must feel that 2021 will be better. However, 2020 has taught us to not assume and to not take tomorrow for granted. Supposedly, all would have known this. Yet, a pandemic threw everything in our face.
Here’s hoping that my morning coffee come March 2021 does not entail pushing back a cloud.