Well.

The past 2.5 months has been a time that will be difficult to forget, and it looks like we are in for more of the same. I don't really feel like waxing poetic on the subject. It's simple. We are experiencing a pandemic that has changed many aspects of everyone's lives. I am lucky. I have a job and a steady income. I work with people I like and the fact that we are split into two separate teams to keep the clinic running makes us sad. I miss these people, their faces, their thoughts, and their conversations. We organized an "ice cream anti-social" yesterday, where we saw each other for the first time in 2 months, separated by a six foot space marked by masking tape. We ate our ice cream and commiserated and discussed how sad we are to be apart and how happy we are to see each other. We will continue to be separate for at least 3 more months. We may continue to be separate into the new year.

Work is different, and the same. We do not allow clients into the hospital anymore. I get to wear my "cute scrubs" to work everyday. We get to express our frustrations a little more loudly than usual. We are understaffed and less efficient and more exhausted despite seeing fewer cases. Euthanasias are tough, what with us not being able to comfort our clients in the same manner we usually do. 

I spend my days off at home, pretty much only venturing out to buy groceries. I don't see my family or my friends. I have to protect them the same way I have to protect my colleagues at work. I come in contact with too many people throughout my day to loosen up on my social-distancing. I talk to my mom daily on the phone and have regular chats and check-ins with my friends over FaceTime and WhatsApp and Discord and Steam. I've chosen my tools of repression and coping: Animal Crossing, Just Dance 2020, bullet journaling, whiling my hours away on the internet. I've purchased a digital keyboard after waffling on it for many years, and am slowly working my way through my Royal Conservatory pieces, trying to build that muscle memory back in my fingers.

Dungeons and Dragons every two weeks is now the highlight of my social life. I do my hair and make-up and pretend to be a dwarven bard for four hours. I glory in using Fireball to reduce a kraken to ashes and a well-timed Dimension Door to cut off a villain's escape.

I donate. To the Food Bank, to the Vancouver Aquarium, to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, to bail funds for protesters. I read articles about how I can actively practice anti-racism. I think about joining the protest and remember COVID-19 and having to keep my work-family safe. I think about how the Black community is just as susceptible - even moreso - and goes out to protest anyway because it is a fight for their lives.

I am thankful that things are "not too bad" in my city and province. I am saddened that the same cannot be said worldwide. I am grateful that I was able to have my 10 day theme park extravaganza and the photos to look back on to spark some joy. I am mildly horrified that the theme parks are planning to re-open despite the state of the US.

I am lucky. And I am grateful. And I hope to do my part to ensure everyone can enjoy the same level of safety and security that I have the privilege to experience.