Even blind-folded, we know we are swinging at even more uncertainty than just the target
The moments I have almost forgotten that rush hour traffic exists in both sound and the smell of burning clutches.
The flashes of a memory where I did not even ponder about having an "essential" reason for leaving my house; or when I expected nothing less than a genuine, lasting hug from my friends and close colleagues - I suppose that even visiting recollections of these colleagues, our work place, our objectives, is foreign now.
To think we had minutes of frustration when our shift list was too full; now I am sure we would sleep over on the banqueted seats just to work a little more than we have in months.
We miss even the inconveniences, the incomplete tasks, and the real value of that minimum wage income - at least there was some common human struggle occurring outside of the vacuum of each individual’s current existence.
The solitary confinement still comes with the bed of our own choice; the puppy dog eyes that wiggle with the rest of his body when he realizes you are home for another day; the felines feeling superior (more so than usual), as everyone adjusts to their constant and intermittent napping schedule; the fading acknowledgment that video calls are the closest thing to a real human connection you will be able to have in a while.
Indefinitely.
Definitely not soon.
Definitely not predictable.
Definitely no countdown.
Why prepare the celebratory piñata now? Even blind-folded, we know we are swinging at even more uncertainty than just the target. Candy expires and boasts definite best-by dates, but a definite date for the return of surviving through human social connections seems to be in the "non-essential" aisle.
