Nostalgia

Today I took a drive with my wife to a nearby town to explore, the first such outing for us since the Plague Year began. Back in the Before Times, drifting from downtown coffee shops to bookstores or breweries was fairly typical way for us to spend a Sunday afternoon but our world hasn't looked like that for a while.

I can't say I have ever really been a fan of large groups of people. Even at the best of times, I've been known to wait outside of particularly busy stores or avoid entering overly crowded bars. Now, it feels obscene. Even outside, even on sidewalks, even with masks, the presence of other people passing within a few feet of me made me anxious.

There's a dichotomy there. We set out because we were longing for the way things used to be, when you could waste an afternoon strolling and exploring a trendy little downtown area. It was the presence of other people that gave the whole thing an air liveliness. Our enjoyment of the gently gentrified was a communal experience. The presence of others a signal indicating that we were on the right track, that something here was worthy of attention.

Today I felt none of that and every person moving around me in the bookstore was an irritant. On top of that, mask saturation was around 50%. Businesses have no official prerequisites. Many had signs indicating that they did require masks, but even the sidewalks could get crowded and having people breathing into my air without the protection of cloth annoyed me to no end. Even if the efficacy is questionable, the absence stands out to me.

The very things we crave are things that repulse and agitate me.

I don't know what the world will look like after this. I can't even wrap my head around a world without movie theaters and the other comforts of communal activity we all enjoyed without even realizing how lucky we were. We're not back there yet, no matter how badly we want to be.