The Existential Weight of the Roundboi

The weirdest thing about this pandemic is… having gotten used to it. Like most dipshits back in March, I thought we’d have a few months of serious hard lockdown and then get back to our shitty-assed way of living sometime, wow, no later than mid-summer, am I right?

Instead, due to the pig-headed, stubbornly moronic, downright fucking imbecilic nature of the modal American, we’re going to be living with this shit for years if not forever. And… FUUUUUUUUCK.

Admittedly, I’m one of the “lucky ones”. Both me and my wife can work from home full-time. We haven’t been asked to take pay cuts or, worse, lost our jobs (yet and yet). We like each other quite a bit, so being on top of each other in a small-ish condo all the goddamned time hasn’t revealed any previously papered-over flaws in our marriage. No kids to drive us nuts. One exceedingly lazy cat who’d probably prefer we weren’t home all of the goddamned time but also secretly is probably happy that we are. Wife likes to cook and bake, so eating needs are sorted.

I’m one of those weird people who can get along fine socially, but is actually an introvert by heart so, while I can be social for hours, I find it exhausting and need to be alone for like a 2 to 1 ratio of hours to recover from being with a group of other people. Wife is straight-up more social than me, so this is harder for her in that regard, but we’re making do with Zoom calls and the occasional rooftop hangout with a small, select group of friends. 

For all of that, though, it’s a burden to literally watch the city around us… die. A ton of favorite bars and restaurants are already gone for good. Who the fuck knows what, if anything, will eventually replace them whenever this ends, if it does. The limited contact with family is also a huge burden, even though we are at least seeing ours every once in a great while, if not in the usual, big, extended-family group nor as much as we would like.

Would love the option to get out of this goddamned stupid country for a week or two like we normally do once or twice a year, but most of the rest of the planet has rightly decided they’re sick of our shit so that option is closed off for everyone but, of course, the ultra-wealthy and powerful. Yay.

So, yeah… could have it a lot worse, but I also am not going to apologize for not liking the way things are right now, either. Like, I’m okay enough with things, but also hate that they are the way they are. I want people to be able to go back to work, school, wherever and thrive. I want to be in a big group of strangers and just feel the sense of “I am in my big city and I love it” instead of constant terror. I’d love for the low thrum of “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME” that’s firing constantly inside my head when I’m not in my own home to not be necessary anymore.

But who knows if it ever will. America could fuck up a coke orgy right now, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon (yes, even if Biden wins in November; this country is irretrievably, fundamentally broken at this point and it’s not getting pieced back together. Ever. Figure out a way to live with that already). 

Anyways… I don’t even know where I’m going with this other than to say my depression at how things are fights with my guilt at not 110% hating all of the COVID-induced changes in my way of life and the heavy knowledge that so many people are so very fucked right now, and I don’t see how this all ends happily for anyone other than the usual ghouls who always make lemonade out of other people’s abject suffering.

About Me

Disaffected middle-aged guy who hates what the internet has become and led to and just wants to write on his quiet corner of it that he actually owns himself because WOW was social media a bad idea. I mostly write about books and terrible current events. Sorry.


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