Some people are having vivid pandemic dreams. Me? I’m following up #bedwine with a melatonin chaser. I used to wake up at 5:03am four days a week. Today I rolled out of bed at 9:09am, confused and groggy. I don’t have anywhere to be. (I never had anywhere to be. )
My dreams are more like waking fantasies.
I used to dream of success. My own show. An audience. People who would watch or read my work and say yes, finally someone who gets it.
After 2016, my dream was this:
Now, I dream of seeing live music. Remember live music? I was supposed to see X and Cracker in a few weeks (yes, it’s an odd lineup but this particular venn diagram of my interests is just one perfect circle.) And while I have never been much for crowds, the idea of standing shoulder to shoulder in a sweaty mass of people sounds like heaven. When your throat is sore from singing instead of coughing, your hands raw from clapping instead of washing. Synapses vibrating with pleasure instead of fear, unable to breathe because you’re dancing hard instead of…you get the picture.
Is there anything more early 90s than this video? Also Cracker follows me on Twitter. The world is strange in many ways.
I’ve been working from home for years. Beyond years — I’ve been working from home off and on for two decades. Two decades. I should be made for this. But working from home is different when you actually get to leave the house. When you can go to the gym, grab coffee, meet a friend for lunch. Pick up a prescription without a mask.
I dream of leaving the house without a mask.
Yesterday was my friend Patty’s birthday. A friend of hers organized a secret “Birthday Train” which in a pre-pandemic life I would have assumed to be some sexual bacchanalia but in current circumstances is Birthday, Quarantine Style where a line of cars drives by to extend birthday wishes from an appropriate social distance.
We idled by and dropped our gifts on her lawn like offerings to our favorite patron saint (because she is our favorite patron saint, seriously) and then blew kisses and screamed “I LOVE YOU!” while weeping and moving along for the next person.
I dream of birthday parties and hugging friends.
Last Friday, I left the house for a social distance walk with my boyfriend*. We had not seen each other in 23 days. We got out of our respective cars and walked across the parking lot to hug and then we got about ten feet away when—
Yeah.
We followed protocol, staying six feet apart wearing face masks and tetris-ing our way through the various runners and bikers and others who were stumbling through one of our very few days of sunshine. (It’s been raining for a month.) Finally we sat down on some bleachers — six feet apart, natch — and he said it’s so good to see you and I responded three weeks ago I would have thought it ridiculous that we would be delighted to sit six feet away from each other in a public place while wearing protective gear. (I was still grateful to even be able to do it.)
I dream of holding hands.
I danced to this in the garage between deadlift sets today. I looked ridiculous. I always dreamed of being truly ridiculous.
Thankfully it’s an easy dream to achieve.
*Surprise! But this isn’t the reason my marriage ended. That was over before this ever began. Congrats, now you’re up to date.
We're all pandemic robots, numbly shuffling from one appointed task to the next without ever thinking about tomorrow. Because who can even imagine tomorrow. I'd rather have the anxiety and adrenalin fear back.