I Seem To Be a Verb
I change, therefore I am.
Last week, I got a long overdue haircut. I’d procrastinated making the appointment for months, until finally the ends came to resemble stalks of dried wheat, like the makings of a harvest wreath.
“Do you have any exciting plans?” the stylist asked, scrutinizing my parched strands. “Vacation? Travel? Parties?”
“No,” I told her. I did not.
It feels harder to plan things — macro, micro, spur-of-the-moment. Will the flight get cancelled? Will half the guests test positive? How many new breeds of offense may blossom from requests to test or mask…or not?
The world marches on, albeit in different directions. We reference the “before times” and the “new normal,” but it goes deeper than that. Sometimes it feels almost like reconciling two existences — the one I thought I’d have, and the one I’m actually living.
While such feelings have been exacerbated by the pandemic, in a larger sense, they were unavoidable. No matter how much we plan, prepare, and anticipate, the plot has a way of writing i…
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