Welcome To My Pity Party

I am well and truly sick of the coronavirus.  I have resisted succumbing for many months, but I now suffer from a severe case of covid fatigue.  A couple of days ago, I was feeling especially restless and frustrated.  I made the mistake of googling “will the coronavirus ever end?” If you are struggling to keep your head above the cooties, I do not recommend googling this question.  The articles that estimated the duration of the pandemic uniformly suggested that we will not hear the end of the virus until the third or fourth quarter of 2021.  In other words… ANOTHER WHOLE YEAR!!!

I have been depressed ever since I read this prediction.  I do not know if I can handle another year of this half-assed version of normal the world is simulating.

  • I am sick of breathing through a mask.
  • I am sick of muffled communication.  It is so difficult to hear people and to speak intelligibly through a mask, it often seems easier to just not talk at all.
  • I am sick of having bad hair days every day.  The mask is 2020’s version of a hat… once you put one on, you had better keep it on because removing a mask that has been plastered to your head leaves your hair flattened and bent at all kinds of unnatural and unflattering angles .
  • I am sick of events being cancelled… the butterfly release at my church, my trip to New York, the Candlelight Processional at Epcot, the Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party at the Magic Kingdom, the Royal Canin dog show spectator activities, and the list goes on.
  • I am sick of not hugging people.
  • I am sick of looking for logical consistency in circumstances that are not conducive to logical consistency.
  • I am sick of constantly having to rethink routines and old ways of accomplishing things.
  • I am sick of feeling like everyone I love is so far away from me.  I feel isolated from even those who are nearby.
  • I am sick of researching coronavirus statistics in search of definitive good news and trying to be satisfied with small, sporadic victories.

This is just a partial list of things I am sick of.  (Yes, I know that you should not end a sentence with a preposition, but I am too sick and tired to care!) Truthfully, the list is endless.  Just as I think I have reconciled myself to one kick in the gut, something I never even thought about rises to the surface of my reality.

I think I have always been a grateful person and I think that I still am, even in the midst of corona crazy.  I know how blessed I am in every way.  I know that God uses even the worst situation to build and create wonderful results, so I trust that this time of challenge will yield some positive outcomes. I have been stalwart in trying to keep people engaged and connected.  Every time a challenge has presented itself, I have endeavored to be part of the solution instead of just whining about the problem. 

Now, however, I seem to be a bit stuck in the slog.  I do not seem to be able to get myself out of it.  I desperately want a break from challenge, but I have not been able to find a place to really accomplish that.

I may have found an answer last Sunday at worship service.  As I listened to the readings, one particular passage, Philippians 4:7-9, punched me in the soul.  It says:

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.”

During the sermon, the rector talked about how difficult and antagonistic the world can be.  He suggested that there is no real place in which to take a break from challenge in this world.  However, in allowing my mind to focus on whatever is pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, or praiseworthy rather than the anxieties and difficulties of the world, the God of peace will be with me.  I do not think God wants me to avoid challenges at this difficult time. I think His will for me is to meet those challenges with an approach that is pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy.  In that way, I can give glory to His name, benefit His people, and grow my own relationship with Him.  I must not only remember all I have learned of God and focus on sacred excellence.  I must also put it into practice.

So, I am still sick and tired of the aspects of the world that are not pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, or praiseworthy.  I do not understand the way the world is turning just now.  I do not understand why things cannot go back to normal.  I cannot understand why everything must be so hard.  However, Philippians 4:7-9 tells me that I do not need to understand because the peace of God is much more powerful than understanding.  Perhaps the answer to my “sick and tired of being sick and tired” tirade is to dump the anxiety and exhaustion of the world and let God carry it alone for a little bit while I focus on the pure and lovely!

What do you do when you get sick and tired of covid challenges?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative,  you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a pure and lovely day!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Keeping Up Appearances. Or Not.

For the first time in over 30 years, I don’t have acrylic fingernails.  Which pretty much means I don’t have nails at all. After so many years of hiding under layers of acrylic, my natural nails are significantly atrophied.  At this point, a harsh word can chip, splinter, and crack them. 

My nails are not the only aspect of my appearance that has suffered after weeks of limited contact with other people.  I am trying to be a responsible citizen of the world and stem the spread of the COVID-19 contagion.  I am not making the huge sacrifices that our medical professionals, truck drivers, grocery workers, first responders, and other essential personnel are making.  I do not want to complain. 

It might be time for an intervention, though. I am in a downward spiral. 

My hair is growing thicker and bushier.  I am growing into the oh-so-attractive skunk look as my roots become more pronounced.  Some of you know that I have been flirting with the idea of allowing my natural gray hair color to grow out.  It has been a difficult decision. I got my hair genetics from my father, who I do not recall ever seeing without gray hair.  I started going gray at age 16. I have been coloring my hair since I was in my mid-twenties.  Heaven only knows how much gray has encroached since then.  The prospect is scary.  I have been loathe to suck it up and see.  I may have no choice in the matter now.  Although I believe my hair salon is still open, I just can’t think that touching people all day is the smartest way to manage a pandemic.  I think I’ll just have to weather the gray skies (and gray hair!) and see how I feel if it is ever safe to go back to the hairdresser again.

I haven’t applied make-up in a month. Before the outside world closed up shop and we all went under house arrest, I wore make-up most days.  It made me feel good to show a little effort.  I had more confidence when I knew I was looking brighter than I was feeling.  I seem to recall that make-up made my face look brighter and made my complexion look less like cream of wheat.  It has been so long that I could be wrong.  Nostalgia always makes everything seem better.  They say distance lends enchantment to the view and my memories of make-up are pretty distant at this point.  Actually, the only way a view of me would be even remotely enchanting right now is if it was VERY distant. 

For the past several weeks, I have been dressing in loose, floaty dresses that are cool and comfortable. They make me feel faintly nymph-like.  Let’s face it, though; they are one step above a nightgown.  Maybe half a step on the days I forgo a bra.  However, I am not sure they are doing me any favors.  I think I am going to have to start trying on something a little more form-fitting once a week or so to make sure my form is still fitting.  After weeks of grazing my way from one room in my house to another, I have a sneaking suspicion that, while I may be flattening the contagion curve, I am not flattening any of my curves.  I could be carting around enough curves to build an entire roller under my floaty trapeze dresses. 

I’m not sporting any jewelry, either.  I have quite the collection of earrings and rings and bracelets and necklaces and watches.  Most of them have some sentimental attachment.  They delight me and make me smile when I wear them.  Since I never seem to go anywhere anymore, it seems like a waste to put them on in the morning.  I just have to take them off for the numerous times each day that I wash my hands.

For someone who wrote a blog piece called The Anti-Frump (http://www.terrilabonte.com/2016/11/the-anti-frump/), I have certainly fallen far from grace.  Looking in the mirror this morning, I had to wonder where the anti-frump has gone.

I’m pretty sure she is in quarantine. 

What is left of my fingernails…. heavy sigh

Have you found yourself following the frump during our days of isolation? How do you motivate yourself to keep on keeping on? Or do you just not bother? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a frump-free day!

Terri/Dorry 🙂