Rough draft of a thought: all I want to do is cook big, complex, delicious meals, play cards, get real weird / sideways, tell lies / stories, sing nonsensical songs, sleep in, work really hard, make art, and not freak out.

Yeah, and like, be healthy, right? Like, of course it sort of feels like we’re “on vacation” because a huge part of being on vacation is “not doing your normal job” sort of thing... which, I’m not, right? But this existential dread is unlike anything else I’ve ever felt.

The whole balancing act of enjoying life v dealing with the encroaching reality of what life is probably going to look like (when can I — safely! — travel south and see my nephew again?) feels kind of insurmountable to my poor, small brain.

Drinking too much comes naturally given the availability of booze and / but luckily for me, I’m aware of that and have decent self control about it. But what about the ones that don’t? I’ve heard the abuse hotlines are ringing off the hooks. Spare a thought for them, Lord.

I’m afraid that “The World” in which I feel comfortable and at home isn’t going to exist when (if) things return to “normal” — but even that, right, like, is there ever a normal again to which we can return? I do not mean this dramatically or euphemistically. I’m afraid of it.

This is 100% self therapy (and if you don’t know how to be, TRUST ME, THAT IS OKAY. We have one commandment right now and it’s to Be Here Now and that’s it. Stay plugged in, wash your hands. don’t go out, etc; if you’re freaking the fuck out, soldier, I promise you’re not alone.

Call your moms and dads and brothers and dear sweet precious peoples whatever their relationships are. That’s about all I’ve got that I feel good passing on, right? I don’t have much to succor you. Dylan. Etc. Do, for the love of god, make time to go outside. Maybe do your taxes?

If you’re lucky (like me) in that you know you’ll be fine, kiss the ground and do your best to support the ones around you (because I promise they’re as confused as you [ — or either they aren’t paying attention, which, in its own way, is a totally viable coping mechanism]).

Alright. Enough for now. Sending love and light and blessings to anybody who might stumble across this. Seriously. With an until-this-blows-over grim look chiseled on my stupid, concrete face, I tip my hat and nod in your general direction. Amen.