festivities and forgetfulness

this is the time of year when i brown butter more than i boil rice and i waste money on splashes of festive holiday syrups in mediocre coffee.

we return to our favorite traditions, and they feel like a standing date we’re actually looking forward to. the days get filled with reunions where small talk isn’t necessary, the bartender remembers you, and something as simple as the diner’s lighting slips the stress off of you. slack is quieter, as colleagues remind you that they too do things other than work, walk the dog and go for sanity walks.

so yeah, i’m lucky to say that this time of the year is full of cozy, hallmark moments that make me feels glaringly human. and just as i was about to shake off the memories of last year’s socially-distant holiday season, and hell, take some upcoming plans for granted, the new variant stomped its way into the final innings of the year.

i’m fully vaccinated & boosted, along with anyone who i call a a friend or family - but just because omicron may not be extremely severe for my first concentric circle, it still brings risk, baggage and exhaustion to our world (and especially the immunocompromised).

and i’ll be honest, it caught me off guard.

since getting vaccinated, i dared to forget how much of a seesaw life is during the pandemic. wearing masks felt normal, so i let myself take festivities for granted. i stopped reading cancellation policies. and ladoos in mailboxes, with socially-distant waves, felt like a sad scene from a movie that i was half asleep for.

i’m realizing that forgetfulness is privilege, not reality, and we’re still in the heart of this entire thing. again. it’s a shitty rerun, and attention spans are lower, more fatigued, than ever.

that’s a jumbled way of describing how i feel on this monday evening. i have the luxury of feeling festive, but i also feel forgetful, in a way that i think march 2020 me swore to never be again.