Seeing Maggie made me feel like my submarine has emerged from the water, and her emerged, too.
I am so grateful that the pandemic is moving into the endemic phase, and I can get out of my submarine and get back on land.
This blog is about the little and big thoughts that pop into my head. I once read that when Flannery O'Connor walked into a bookstore, she would want to edit her published works with a red pen. In the digital world, we have the luxury of tweaking things up after we've hit the publish button. I can be a perfectionist/procrastinator, where waiting for the ideal means little gets done. Here I will share what is not--and likely will never be--perfect.
Friday, June 17, 2022
Submarine
I was thinking about how I ran into Maggie the other day at lunch. I think of the pandemic life as more of as a submarine instead of bubbles or pods. Bubbles sound light and airy and free. Pods sound cozy. Submarines are dark and enclosed and isolated. Since the pandemic started, I've been living in a submarine with a handful of other people, separated from the rest of humanity. Once every few weeks, my submarine would come up for air, but rarely would other submarines, as they were underwater when I was up.
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