A Year in the Rant

So, you still have hair and at least three friends at this point in the pandemic. Aren’t you fucking special?

You probably got some time off from work, didn’t you? What, was it a week? Two? Oh…you got more than that? You must have some sort of “special” job. Like some fancy job, huh? I bet you even got to work from home, didn’t you? Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

Not me.

What was I doing during the whole “We’re all going to die, so stay inside and don’t breathe other people’s air” thing? I was working.

I spend 8 hours a day trapped in an office with 5 other shitheads who spend at least 4 hours a day going into your homes and touching all your stuff. They then come back to the office and tell me all about how crappy you and your homes are. The owner isn’t big on enforcement of guidelines here, so we weren’t required to wear masks in the office. So, yeah, super fucking cool for me. No anxiety there.

Many of you took up DIY projects. Good on you! None of us really gives a shit about your sourdough starter though. We also are done seeing photos of your bathroom remodel. If I am forced to watch one more of little Clara’s terrible piano performances that you are certain earns her the title “protégé,” I will hang myself with dental floss from the towel rack in your bathroom. Don’t get mad at me, this is a PSA. All of us are thinking it. I’m just saying what others won’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you were productive with your time. I’m glad you took care of yourself and went to the gym. It’s important to keep those mental faculties in balance. You never gave two shits about them before, but sure, let’s pay attention to them now and broadcast your progress to make the rest of us feel like shit for sitting around eating pizza and crying into our Oreos, you insensitive ogre.

If I have learned anything during this pandemic, it’s that I dislike 394 of you on my social media feed. I’m talking serious antipathy. I may even look the other way if you were getting mugged in a dark alley.

I haven’t asked anyone their name in over a year.

The people I’ve associated with are not who they seem, I’ve come to learn. The pandemic has exposed the ugly underbelly of humanity. It’s a winner take all mentality and it’s utter bullshit. We’ve forgotten how to care for the well-being of our neighbors. We are so consumed with how something affects us that we don’t care about how others are being affected. We blame and accuse. Instead of coming together, we pull and divide. It’s been a fucking free-for-all.

I’ve severed connections with people. I’ve seen others for who they really are. I’m extremely mindful of the connections that I make. So, I’m completely fucking real when I say I haven’t asked anyone their name in a year. I cannot take more loss. Except for little Clara. Fuck her.

How have I managed throughout the pandemic? Like. A. Boss. I haven’t written shit in over a year. I run daily. Mostly to get away from myself. I’m terrified of forming new relationships. I’m in therapy. Again. But hey, I haven’t made one loaf of bread or posted photos of a DIY project so there’s that.

Until the next pandemic, see you cunts later.

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