One thing this pandemic has taught me: It’s OK to do nothing.
I know that sounds obvious, but I’m one who likes to go here, go there, see this, see that. I dig long drives and fun meals and adventures to spots that sound adventurous. What I don’t like—well, what I didn’t like—was sitting around the house.
Now, however, I’m sorta getting used to it. And I think, in 2020, that’s important. One of the biggest COVID fuck-ups came because men and women felt compelled to “go about their lives.” Which meant going places. Seeing people. Engaging. Talking. Hugging. Sharing.
And, truly, I get it.
I really do.
But—in the name of safety—I’m not coming to your barbecue. I’m not eating inside at a restaurant or, in all probability, outside at a restaurant. I’m not making exceptions for certain people. I’m not having neighbors come close to pet my dog. I’m not flying. I’m not meeting up with people.
I’m doing nothing, mostly inside, with my wife and kids.
It sucks.
But it feels necessary.
