My New World

 The reality of the hot season took on a new meaning this year.  My glasses are always fogged.  It is difficult to know which person is speaking. Facial expressions are missing.  Lipstick and gloss usage are on a serious decline.  We are in the era of the face mask. 

 Unlike the majority of my age group, I am single and childless.  My sole household fear is based on my own health.  FaceTime is an activity. Regular visits to the local farmer’s market are a major event. I became the hostess of virtual happy hours.  Socializing and just being around people have been forsaken in the name of safety. 

 The large gaps of time without interaction weigh heavy.  Frequent trips to the local park give a glimpse into a community of walkers.  Green parrots squawk and talk in the trees as the sun gives way to my newly acquired jogging practice.  Contactless coffee runs to DD round out the morning prior to another contemplation of the meaning of life. 

 Cooking and sips of water take place in between zooms. Daily afternoon naps get longer and longer.  I text random friends to inquire about the phantom storm before yet another Netflix binge.  Endless snacks run amuck in support of the COVID fluffy. 

 Gone are the days of the carefree travel and simple meandering.  Everyone appears as a talking head. True connection now depends on your Wi-Fi signal.  Hugs are banned.  Thoughts of acquiring a Labradoodle pester me.  This is my summer of 2020.  A new world is forming, and I am learning how to move.