A pingback from The Errant Moon (Waves hi!) led me to Imperfect Patience: Oral History. In the post, the author points out that “Publicity shots … always show pretty faces.” They talk about the need to chronicle the ugly as well as the pretty. “According to Landdeck, We are at least thirty years from the time historians will be seriously writing about what this pandemic is now doing to people. We should leave a record. And the record should not be just about the pretty people … We need to record our fears our unattractive and embarrassing fears about outbursts.”
So here I go. If you are researcher in the future, Hello & good luck with your thesis, project, book, interactive hologram.
My ugly truth is that there are no ugly bits. I get to spend the day with my husband, whose company I enjoy above all others. My horses are in the backyard, so even if I can’t ride [Or Not], I can pet noses anytime I want. Having someone around has made me more productive. I’m a week ahead on blog posts, I’m working on my fiction. I even got my work assignment submitted on time, something I have been having trouble with. Plus, there is a built-in excuse for an off day. Sloth got you down? Feeling unproductive? Well, of course you do, there’s a global pandemic going on.
Oh yeah, that.
I’m horrified. I’m terrified. I worry about those I love. I worry about strangers on the Internet. I continue to click on headlines even when the stories will stress me out. I choke up during the Thank You commercials. Still, these are all happening at a remove. I don’t know anyone who has gotten sick. The closest death has been the in-law of a friend from long ago (virtual hug). I’m still waiting on tenterhooks for that first name. That first person I know IRL.
I have been dealt an excellent hand of cards for ducking the disease. Pick an indicator, I’m on the shiny side: female, no underlying conditions, young, or at least youngish, etc, etc. I will hear that the virus disproportionately affects X segment of society and then think to myself ‘I am not in that group’ and then feel relieved and then feel bad for feeling relieved. I feel like Winston asking them to put the rats on Julia rather than on himself.
I have not wanted to say any of this. I feel reluctant to write it even now. Partly, not to tempt fate. I see how easily it could all go bad, e.g illness, job loss, disruptions to the food supply. Partly, I don’t want to be cruel. Your life has gone to shit? So sorry, we’re good over here. Haven’t seen your horse in over a month? So sad, Imma gonna go feed mine a carrot. So, I post pretty pictures and amusing stories. Or amusing pictures and pretty stories. First do no harm.
That is my ugly truth. I’m having a nice time. Except for the existential screaming.
Stay safe. Stay sane.