the ocean

I feel like we're kind of at this odd inflection point in the U.S. right now, where things are obviously improving on the COVID front but people are kind of split between having some measured optimism and just deciding that it's over and throwing their masks in a bonfire with their Dixie Chicks CDs. I myself am a bit torn because I definitely see the appeal of heading to Daytona Beach and rubbing up against random strangers, but I also don't really want to end up on a ventilator, especially since I don't think I have any outfits that go with one. And we do have these weird mutant strains of COVID just kind of hanging out there in Texas, eating barbeque and shouting about states' rights just like everyone else. So, um, maybe I'm not scheduling any foam parties or jello wrestling matches just yet.

On the measured optimism front, though, absolutely I'm there. My mom has been vaccinated, as anyone who has encountered her in any capacity in the past month must surely know by now, and Ian's parents are scheduled now as well. I have a few friends who have been vaccinated, too, and not one of them has suddenly developed a strange desire to purchase Microsoft products. (Although I'll stan for Microsoft Paint until the day I die, of course.) Restaurants are reopening, and even if I'm not quite ready to throw back a Megarita at Chili's myself, I take it as a positive sign. People are even starting to talk about "when" theatre will come back, as opposed to "if." Can that Godspell revival we've all been hungering for be so far behind?

So yeah, things are on an upswing. The sun is out and the chocolate I impulse bought on Amazon has arrived. (And I brought it inside before the aforementioned sun got to it.) What a time to be alive, ish.