My most intense brush with disasters was the 2017 Harvey flood. Water filled our house and rocked our world. We were stuck in the upstairs of our house for a couple of days and part of that was without power, but we felt bizarrely upbeat about things. In retrospect, I’m sure we were just in shock.
For the next four months, we turned all our energies and attention to the task of fixing the problem. It was obvious what the problem was. A peek in the downstairs of our house served as a ready reminder in case we lost sight of what we were doing! Even though it was our first time down this road, there was ample experience and expertise out there to guide us.
At the end of the day, it was just another project. Plan the plan, then work the plan and you’ll get there.
When we couldn’t stand the inconveniences of the camping-style living upstairs any longer, or the daily grind of decision-making, or the chaotic multi-contractor scheduling, we could escape. We could take a break from it.
We could go out for dinner and eat with real cutlery and real plates on real dining tables at noisy restaurants and pretend life was normal. We could go visit friends and talk about their non-flooded lives, as if we belonged to that group too. We could spend Thanksgiving and Christmas in the homes of our extended families, decorated for the holidays, where we could lose ourselves in a world that wasn’t interrupted by a flood.
The escape to an alternate reality made it bearable. It offered a relief valve. A few hours of pretending things were different was food for the soul.
Today, I’m in need of some COVID-19 relief. I’d love a brief getaway, an escape.
Not in another “check-in” Zoom call. Not in another Netflix show. Not on another walk. Not in another Facebook Live exercise class. Not in another meditation session. Not on another phone call with a dear friend. Not at another pseudo happy hour online. And certainly not in another furtive trip to the Blue Bell container in the freezer.
It’s a dissatisfaction that feels like an unscratchable itch. Like when you were bored as a kid and all the suggestions your mom made sounded terrible.
Some days I’m up for living in this time warp. And other days, I just want a weekend getaway to a place where nobody has heard about, or cares about COVID-19. Also … where any thoughts of pandemics are erased from our brains … the thoughts are wiped out instantaneously with the first sip of an exquisite top-shelf G&T!
Just the thought of this is perking me up again 🙂