Coronavirus is Cockblocking My Future Life

When can we press “play"?

I’m not the American ‘flag-toting' Karen screaming about my rights and freedoms to visit the beach. I wear a mask. I avoid humans. My kids are in virtual school (aka, my personal hell) instead of a childcare facility where I can pay someone else to deal with their Zoom calls. There are no restaurant outings.

I’m not outdoorsy and yet I’d kill for a day at the park. Without a mask. With my kids playing on the playground. After, I’d like to grab lunch and nowhere in the process be placed behind plexiglass. Getting a refill of soda feels like a privilege for Amex Black Card holders.

I want a fucking VIP Early Admission Pass back to normal life.

A dear friend of mine is dying. Our little group of 4 friends across the country booked a vacation as a last hurrah. We cancelled everything as soon as quarantine hit. Even though travel restrictions eased up, we can’t travel; my dying friend is immunocompromised and another friend in the group is nearing the end of her pregnancy. That was our only shot.

My griping isn’t unique. We’re all screwed by this pandemic, some more than others. I feel for people who can’t risk seeing ageing parents or kids who missed prom. This is a shitty time for a first-year college kid. Youth should be full of stupid shenanigans; congregating without masks isn’t one of them.

It’s like someone rang the fire alarm midway through an exam and we’re waiting to finish the test so we can graduate. A life in limbo doesn’t feel like life at all.

On the plus side, I’ve discovered my children are little hustlers. Upon discovering they won’t have birthday parties, they immediately asked for the money I would have spent on a party for them to shop online. I can’t tell if I’m impressed with my parenting skills or sad that I raised greedy little assholes. I’m still making a birthday party invitation like I do every year, even if our little family of 4 are the only attendees.

This was supposed to be my year of change. After discovering my husband’s latest indiscretions at the end of last year (while secretly having my own), this was the year to move forward.

And then fucking coronavirus came along and cockblocked my progress.

How can you assess your spouse’s willingness to work on a marriage when this isn’t a standard test environment? I can’t gauge if my husband has changed when he’s got the path of least resistance. He’s always home so helping is easy compared to before. I don’t drag him to social events so I can’t determine if he’s better with others. Without a standard commute, he’s more pleasant; what happens when we return?

My marriage is in dire need of separation, but my husband and I can barely work and simultaneously juggle the kids' online classes. Neither of us can bail out when it takes both of us to manage a virtual school for the kids.

I want the freedom to date, but a mask isn’t a cute look on me. I’m worried that social distancing will skew my perception of available men and I’ll feel defeated. Part of me is excited to go on dates; another part of me knows its hard enough as it is to find a good quality guy at my age let alone when everyone’s 6 feet apart.

Some people are go-with-the-flow types. I’m a planner. Sitting idle waiting for the circle jerk of scientists to agree on a vaccine isn’t my style.

I come up with a new strategy to push for separation with my husband (since the last time I tried was a disaster). Everything is up in the air not knowing where his job will land when life returns to normal. I’m researching “bird nesting”, the concept of keeping the kids in the same house while he and I alternate residing elsewhere.

I scour extended-stay hotels and Airbnb condos. I’m ten steps ahead in my mind, thinking of furnished places and our budget. Online articles give me tips on areas of concern, such as taking out the trash or buying household necessities. Pffft. I got this! (Step 1: get spouse to agree to the plan.)

My life is on the starting line and I’m waiting for someone to fire the pistol. It feels like it will never happen.

We all have mental lists of things we’re excited to do with this ends, right? Theme parks, clubs, libraries (oh em gee I miss libraries), parties, travel…Is it realistic to think these will stay the same? Do I forever need to keep a bag of masks in my car? Am I always going to hold my Costco card against the Plexiglas so the cashier on the other side can scan it?

I bet Warren Buffet invested in clear plastics and that fucker didn’t tell any of us to do the same seven months ago.

My daughter keeps talking about the non-existent gymnastics class she’ll join when this is over. My son was in REI bike riding lessons. Their socialization skills are out the window when they only have each other and their parents. Zoom playdates for children end up with the kids bored and our parents dominating the conversation since they can’t virtually play anyway. We gripe that people don’t interact with each other because they’re always on their phones and yet, we’ve got a generation that’s forgotten what other kids look like outside of a laptop camera.

I wish I could wave a magic wand and give them back the year of their childhood they’ve missed. I try to hype them up about “how crazy cool is it that you guys are alive during a worldwide pandemic?! This hasn’t happened since 1918! You’ll tell your grandkids about this time!”

Not sure what they’ll have to tell 60 years from now. The excitement of internet buffering during an online class or getting the same food delivered yet again?

It’s Saturday morning as I type this. Normally I’d set up a social outing with other family friends. I have the adventurous spirit of a sloth and even I’m chomping at the bit to go out into the world and explore. Instead, I’m bored at home writing this Medium rant.

I’m so fucking over this.