It’s been a tough month for our physical and mental health.

I have found it impossible to come here and write anything, because my mind is busy reading the news, worrying about everyone and everything, and just generally feeling off.

How not to feel so? Our world has stopped and we have no clue when we will be able to turn it back on.

I say “our world” because, clearly, “the world” in its broad sense has not stopped. If anything, nature is taking a break and a deep breath. And that’s really cute, but it got old yesterday when the news continued to get gloomier than hell. Where’s the fucking medicine, and when will you guys clear the vaccine? “The virus is mutating!” shout the sensationalist media. Okay, Cool. Thanks. What’ve you got, science? Say something new, man, cuz we’re running out of time here.

As a writer, terrible events, deaths, and doom are “fun” story fodder.

As a human being, I plead for all this bullshit to please stop.

I want our lives back. Our restaurants, cafes, museums, parks, trips, gatherings, art, music, fun. I’m gonna stop here before getting all depressed fucking again.

I know this is probably not the post you guys need to read, because I’m not here telling you all that it’ll be alright (YET IT WILL BE ALRIGHT, SOMEDAY. AND REMEMBER: IT COULD BE WORSE. SO LET’S COUNT OUR BLESSINGS.)

The last paragraph made me realize I’m probably just in a bad day. Fearful as I may. Stressed. Tired of the uncertainty and fear.

But we’ll be, indeed, alright.

Most of us are, in fact, as alright as we can be.

That matters.

Let’s focus on that and wait this shit out, because we and our economy will survive.

And because we’ll meet again.