One of the surprises of the Dystopian World of Corona are the long periods of … absolutely nothing. I was under the impression that there would be a lot more action going on.
When I was a kid, you bought a tub of margarine, removed the lid and there it was. There wasn’t a tamper-proof seal on anything. Not on food. Not on medicines. But then, in 1982, a murderer tampered with some packages of painkiller, and now we have a new normal — tamper-proof seals on everything — that none of us even thinks about anymore.
WTF. I didn’t know how else to start this, to be honest. In January and February, I was really feeling like things were coming together, like the seeds I had planted and nourished and cared for were all of a sudden blooming. And then March said to the world NOT SO FAST.
Don’t you envy people who lived in the distant past, who ate whatever was available without thinking too much about it?
You know you have a cute little red dress somewhere, and it would be absolutely perfect for the occasion. It’s … somewhere. You try to shove the yellow sundress and the black pair of pants that are two sizes too small out of the way. No, you don’t want the green sweatshirt. No, not the polka-dotted jumpsuit. Somewhere in this &*$ing closet, there is a red dress! But where?
To the women whose depression makes it hard for them to love themselves: I’m talking to you. I understand what you are going through.
Whether it’s thigh rash from a long workout or painful breast chafing on a hot summer day, we’ve all had it. Chafing is something that happens to everyone sooner or later, regardless of body type and activity level.
Many parents and caregivers have recently found themselves thrust into the role of “teacher.” While some of you have experience with teaching, many of you do not.
Every single one of us comes from a long line of survivors. Our ancestors lived through World War II and the Great Depression. Most of us lived through 9-11. We are resilient and strong, so give yourself some credit.