Still stir crazy after all these years
I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is my calendar is filling up again. The bad news is that my calendar is filling up again. It’s quite the dichotomous quandary!
Side note: It’s a Word of the Day calendar.
But I digress, like I do. I’m excited to be back out in the world, after an overlong hiatus. For the last two years, there was nothing in the day planner except Zoom meetings. Now, people are doing things again. More importantly, I’m doing things again.
It started slowly. I hesitantly stepped out of the cave. For the record, I didn’t wear a long, white robe or grow the requisite Gandalf-gray beard. That’s the signature look for the other hermits on my mountain.
First, it was just tea or coffee with a friend. Those first few conversations were awkward. Everyone was talking about Netflix and Hulu shows they had watched, because we had nothing to chat about. “I’m caught up on laundry” does not scintillating conversation make.
Last year, I had a two-hour phone conversation about “The Queen’s Gambit.” That’s an inordinate amount of time kibitzing about a female chess phenom.
Then, the world started opening its doors; unless you lived in Florida, which was the 7-Eleven of the United States, because it was always open. Here in Pennsylvania, it was slow recovery.
Suddenly, it was dinner plans, live theater, gallery openings. I went to “Hamilton” with my mask on and a hockey game with my mask off. All in the same week. I even went to a cabaret. After all, what good is sitting alone in your room when you can go to the cabaret?
I went full-on Sally Bowles.
One night after work, I drove to Crafton to see my friend Ron, whipped up to Mt. Washington and had dinner with my cousin, then I dashed off to meet a magician for drinks in Shadyside.
It wasn’t a random magician. My friend, Magic Michael, flew in from Los Angeles to perform at the Rivers Club. He was only here for a few days. My calendar was filling up, but I was determined to see him.
The text thread read:
“How about Thursday at 6:00?”
“I’m tied up Thursday at 6:00.”
“Can you get out of it?”
“I’m a mentalist not an escape artist.”
“Thursday at 9?”
“Presto!”
Imagine going out for drinks at 9 p.m. on a weeknight. I’m a rebel!
After two years of pandemic-imposed house arrest, I want to be everywhere and do everything.
The trouble is that events are starting to overlap, and I don’t want to miss anything. I’m getting FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). I suffered a severe case of FOMO looking at a friend’s out-of-town wedding photos on Facebook back in 2019, and I’d hate to have a relapse.
Juggling events is a skill and I’m rusty. I am, however, overjoyed to be throwing the balls back up in the air again. Turn off the TV and join me.