20 Things I learned in 2020
This New Year’s I decided to reflect on the many lessons I never thought I would have to learn. Perhaps you will find wisdom in them; perhaps you have learned these things as well.
1. My Husband is truly my best friend
We’ve been under quarantine three times now. Three. Times. But after spending countless hours together, I’ve decided there’s no one I’d rather be with for endless days in a row. There’s a smidgen of regret when quarantine is lifted and we have to try to reintegrate with society. Seriously, this has been like a second honeymoon period for us. Much to the horror of our children.
2. Zoom is weird-at least at first
I used to meet with three writer’s groups a week in my previous life, before the ‘Rona. When they moved the meetings to Zoom, it was weird looking at those nine squares and almost impossible not to think of the Brady Bunch. There were times that I found myself trying to decide which of us was like Alice, which was like Marsha, etc. etc. And then I discovered that I’m older than most of our members and am in fact, the most Alice of all of us. I stopped thinking about The Brady Bunch after that. But every time there are nine participants, I have to force myself no tot do it. Marsha, Marsha, Marsha.
3. There’s too much to watch
“Let’s watch a movie.”
“What do you want, a show or a movie?”
*thirty minutes later*
“Ummm…a movie?”
“Okay, what kind of movie?”
“Well, not Romance, not Sci-Fi, not Drama, not Action, not Comedy…”
“So you want to watch Sesame Street?”
*three hours later*
“I came up with some options: How about Romancing the Stone, Star Trek, 12 Years a Slave, or The Wedding Singer?”
Don’t get me started on The Good Place. Just watch it. That is all.
4. Grocery Delivery is a gift from the gods above
This magical thing called Click List is free if you just pick up your groceries. Seriously? You’re gonna shop for me? I don’t have to walk into the store? I’d pay twenty bucks for that. True, you can’t pick out your own produce, but if there was ever a good time to lower your standards, 2020 is the time. Also, it is easier to send the teenagers to pick up the groceries than to have to put on real pants and do it myself.
5. Nobody said you can’t go for a walk
My office was closed for months. I got paid to stay home from March through July, which was awesome. Silver lining and all that. So what’s a girl to do? Well, Dr. Fauci said being outside was good, so I hiked in the mountains as often as I could. I discovered new places to walk in, just around my own house and neighborhood when I couldn’t get up the hill. I even went on two backpacking trips, which is something that’s been on my bucket list for a long time. The idea of carrying all my necessary worldly possessions up a mountain trail was daunting, but I did learn a good lesson in needs versus wants. I really hate to pee in the woods. Don’t get me started on the female pee funnel. Performance anxiety is real. Some day I’ll practice in the shower.
6. I still have middle school sewing skills
Masks. I haven’t used a sewing machine in decades. Suddenly a knock on my door came (and that was scary because who just shows up at the door, unannounced in a pandemic? Was it the Plague Doctor?) I opened it to see my neighbor standing there with bolts of material and sewing notions, and a hopeful look on her face. “Can you please sew some masks for me?” She works at the grocery store where they shop for me free of charge, even if the produce isn’t always perfect. “Of course I will! Just let me figure out how a sewing machine works.” I must say, I’m quite the little seamstress even though the masks weren’t always exactly perfect. Eat your heart out, Mrs. Reuter.
7. I really miss going to the movies
Seriously. Movies are like my only hobby. Or were. My husband and I used to go every week on date night. Sometimes we’d even take the kids when we were feeling particularly generous. Then the theaters closed. Then they stopped making movies. Holy shit what are we supposed to do now? Stare at each other? Have yet another Lord of the Rings Marathon? (We did both.) There’s stuff to watch on Netflix and other streaming services (see number three), but it’s not the same as sitting down with a room full of strangers, a bucket of hot, overpriced popcorn in your lap, and that excited feeling as the lights go down. The new measure of a friendship is who will give you their streaming service password and ask for nothing in return. Those are the friends I’m keeping when this is all over.
8. You don’t need to change your oil as often if you don’t go anywhere
Seriously. I think I put a total of 1000 miles on my car in four months. We did go to the mountains, but no shuttling kids to anywhere, no work commute, no boredom-driven trips to Target. I went a full sixteen days without filling my gas tank, which almost felt like a crime considering gas prices sunk to below a dollar a gallon, something I hadn’t seen since high school. I think. It’s hard to say since I’ve smoked a lot of weed since then and my memory ain’t quite what it used to be.
9. Three teenagers is a lot of teenagers
How do you entertain three kids over thirteen? I mean, little kids need constant attention, but having three brooding teens constantly hanging about is even more difficult. The two oldest were supposed to go to prom and graduate. The depression hanging over the house was like a dark cloud. What’s a mom to do? Theme dinners to the rescue! It all started with a formal dinner complete with prom dresses and a three-piece suit for my husband. From there, the idea took off. Frank’s Fish Shack, Night at the Carnival, Casino Night, countless others I can’t remember now because the whole year is a blurry image in my rear view mirror. The kids put together an anniversary dinner for us complete with fondue and cheesecake. The important thing is that they were entertained and had a reason to go on living.
10. Dogs love company. Cats don’t.
I have a giant dog who stayed right by me the whole time. He could have just been waiting for me to stand up and drop crumbs off my flabdomen. He even joined me in the Covid 19 weight gain program, out of solidarity, I imagine. We both had to find bigger clothes. He got a new harness and I got a fabulous new wardrobe of leggings. Everyone wins. He loves the increased attention. The cat, however kept a constant practice of meowing at the door to be let out-much more than usual. I think he’s still wondering when we’re going to get the heck out and leave him to his formal peaceful existence. The dog now weighs more than I did when this all started. He’s on a diet. I’m still waiting for New Year’s Resolutions to start that nonsense. The cat has a cat-door, but prefers to sit at the front door and meow to go out at least ten times a day. Perhaps this will help prepare me for my retirement career as a Wal-Mart greeter.
11. This is a good time to start new hobbies
I started writing before the pandemic began, but I completed two novels during social isolation. And a bunch of short stories. And I had a few published. I wrote things for my family and wrote for fun. Now I’m looking for an agent so I don’t have to go to work anymore and I can just continue to stay home. It’s amazing what you can get used to. As Red said in the Shawshank redemption, “I’m an institutionalized man now, Andy.” I thought I’d learn how to play chess again, but that didn’t go anywhere.
12. I miss my parents
Seriously. Painfully. They live in Florida and I was there in March before the whole thing smacked us in the face for realz. It started to feel really weird. The beaches were packed with people laying next to each other like hot dogs in a package. It made me feel guilty just being there. I left early because, although I love them, I feared my own family would starve to death and turn cannibal if I didn’t get back before they forced us all into our homes at gunpoint. Now I have thousands of airline miles to use but nowhere to go. My, my how things have changed. I hope they remember me by the time I can get back there to visit.
13. Amazon
I’m sure I have contributed greatly to the likelihood that Jeff Bezos’ kids will one day be able to go to college. Package day is the highlight of the week at our house, and even when I know I haven’t ordered a damn thing, there’s that brief moment of disappointment when that smiling package arrives and it’s not for me. Also, the two oldest teens have a terrible online shopping habit. Amazon is a dangerous and wonderful thing.
14. You can check the pulse of America by its toilet paper supply
No need to watch the news. When America is in trouble, you buy toilet paper. Everyone’s getting sick? GET THE TOILET PAPER! There’s a threat of civil unrest? TOILET PAPER TO THE RESCUE! Seriously, I don’t get the logic of this. In April, my husband installed bidets on all of our toilets. A word of advice is to be careful with the force of the spray. I swear, my butthole may still be bouncing along somewhere in the middle of Kansas. Regardless, we are set for the full-blown apocalypse. But I will still protect my accumulated supply with great dedication. Don’t try me.
15. I have an invisible radiation dot on my forehead
How many times have you had your temperature checked in the last eight months. You go into a doctor’s office and the first thing they want to do is irradiate your brain by shooting you in the forehead with a lazer beam. I’m pretty sure there are no longitudinal studies on repeated thermometer exposure, but I anticipate that in ten years or so a bunch of us are going to be a lot dumber than we were.
16. Even introverts resent being locked down
Look, I’m not saying I would have made any more social engagements than I did over the last nine months, it’s just the fact that the freedom to say no I’m busy doing something made up was wrenched away from my sociophobic little hands. I didn’t even get to use the millions of excuses I usually have to manufacture to get out of social commitments. Frankly, I think I’ve lost some of my creative edge just sitting around here with no terrifying invitations to decline or duck out of at the last moment.
17. Virtual Education can suck it
My kids aren’t dumb, but they certainly can’t deal with virtual school. I give them a pass for the end of the year last year, but by this time, I’d have thought that this new digital generation that we can’t pry away from their phones or the you tubes would be better at handling online school. I mean, I’m old and I’ve managed to take online classes in the last year. And pass them. I know, I know, it’s not what they’re used to and I get it, but still…I can’t teach you algebra.
18. Oh my god these people are messy
Five people in one house with two dogs and a cat. “That’s not mine,” the most haunting phrase of 2020. Far more frustrating than anything I’ve heard on the news or out of the mouth of a politician. This has greatly contributed to the amount of alcohol consumed in 2020 and thereby, the weight gain. I blame my children for all of it. The 19 year old twins moved out in November, just next door in the apartment above our garage to wait out Covid as “adults”, but it’s been at least 2/5 more tidy than before.
19. America has lost its collective mind
Yeah, I’ve gotten involved in online arguments more than I used to. For one thing, I finally have the time to sit down and spew my superior opinions about, well, everything. I’m not saying I’m always right, but I am an Aries so. But dang. People are amazing in their capacity to cling to unresearched opinions and theories even when presented with science and facts. It’s really astounding, but to be honest it gives me hope for the human race. In the face of extinction, there will still be people who will stand and say “Hell no we will not go!”, followed shortly by “Free beer and hookers!”
20. Black lives matter. Pronouns matter. Social Justice isn’t just a stupid buzzword. Greta Thunberg matters. Me Too matters. Voting makes a difference. Use your talents. Fight for something you believe in. Help people out when they need it. Being poor isn’t a character flaw. A little kindness goes a long way.
So that’s the wisdom I have to share. These lessons I’ve learned will go with me into the new year. Perhaps I’ll remember this time for the rest of my life. Or maybe it will fade, as it has already begun to. I don’t know if I’ll be able to properly explain to my grandkids what this was all like. Will they believe me when I tell them that once upon a time we washed our groceries? Or that I had a mask hanging on the key hook by the front door in case someone came to the door? Or about the whole toilet paper thing? I don’t know. Maybe I won’t even believe it a few years from now. I only hope this new year will bring new hope and a new sense of connectedness. I have my doubts, but I remain. Hopeful.