The Effects of the 2020 Fog

Phew! It has been a while since I’ve sat down at my keyboard to write anything other than a lesson plan or a grad school paper. I’d like to blame the outside factors for this absence, but let’s be honest, I’m trying very hard to climb out of the thick fog of 2020. Rather than focus on the negatives, I can’t help but laugh and sit back as I think about the ridiculous things I’ve done in my fog. Please tell me I’m not alone.

Looking longingly at my new lipstick.

Look, I’m 41, and it’s starting to show in my eyes. In the “before times” of last winter, I was really beginning to embrace a new way to take attention away from those crow’s feet with lipstick exploration. I bought pinks, reds, and purples. I tried a new one each day, and it began to be a new art project. It was so much fun and psychologically beneficial to my aging face. Enter: masks. One day, I thought about how heavy my eyes looked over my many masks and found myself staring longingly at my neglected lipstick collection. They stood on my dresser like trophies of the past, so pretty, so new, so untouched. When I came to, I realized the fog had me dreaming of what the “after times” will be like when I will need this coat of color even more. See you soon, lipstick. See you soon.

Trying to get into other people’s minivans

Look. At my high school, the teachers with whom I am lucky enough to work have a “type” when it comes to our minivans. Last January, we were able to welcome the queen of all minivans into our lives: our Pearly White Toyota Sienna. It turns out my family’s beautiful minivan looks like the cousin of the white Hondas, and twin sisters with white Pacificas. Most of us arrive at school before the sun is up, so we don’t remember where we even park at the end of a long day of teaching. On more than one foggy weekday, I can be found accidentally trying to get into a Honda, Pacifica, and maybe even a Dodge. It isn’t until I get up close to the door that I realize it’s not my family’s car. Sorry, co-workers. Pay no attention to the woman in her forties attempting to enter your vehicle in a fog. I usually get it right by the third try.

Trance-Like State Driving

Maybe it’s the teaching kids at home and in the classroom simultaneously. Maybe it’s the constant cleaning of the rooms, or maybe it’s because the virus has us all on edge. Whatever it is, it makes me more than the normal teacher-tired by the end of the school day. So tired, in fact, that my middle schooler and I have missed our turn to get my youngest on more than one occasion. I call this trance-driving. I nod and “uh-huh” to what’s being said to me, and I sometimes end up driving to the wrong exit. Thank goodness the baby of our family is so….expressive. Quiet car rides aren’t normal, so I can catch my oversight within a mile or two. Sorry, little one. Mama’s doing her best.

Going a little too far with my plant obsession. 

In “before times”, the only living things I could keep alive were ones that hugged me. Plants and beta fish were not priorities, and I almost swore off both. However, our early quarantine time period had me pretty sad. I decided to try my hand at being a plant mom. We had no practices, no games, zero get-togethers that could pull my attention away from this. I have a friend who gave me clippings and taught me the basics of plant life. Light gardening began making me so happy that I started to buy a plant every time I would get sad. I must have been reaaallllyyy gloomy, because my collection could put our local greenhouse to shame. My kids even tried to intervene, but they couldn’t stop this new obsession. I am happy to report most of my viney glee is still thriving in our house as we speak despite going back to work and practices. 

Dreaming of Live Music

Besides meeting my girlfriends for lunch, going on dates with my husband, and seeing my students’ actual faces, I miss concerts the most. The pandemic canceled two live shows, and we gave up all hope of our favorite summer pastime by June. However, I’ve started shopping for outdoor, 2021 venue dates of my favorite musicians as something to look forward to. It helps the despair I feel in this 2020, and it makes me think there may be an “after times” after all.

In one of my favorite books, Untamed, Glennon Doyle insists, “We can do hard things.” I believe this mantra. I see the light. I’ve found ways to enjoy this current time. As we watch our nation power through to the “after times”, I hope you all can find little bits of funny in your fog. If you find yourself staring off into space, accidentally breaking and entering your neighbors’ cars, or covered in green foliage, you are not alone! What have you found yourself doing in this crazy time of life? We’d love to hear your 2020 Fog stories.