No transition. No warning. Just one last normal weekend that nobody knew was the last… and then suddenly we’re all inside, wiping down groceries like we’re in a low-budget apocalypse and hoping we don’t accidentally breathe wrong. People were scared to touch, scared to leave their home, scared it was just a matter of time before it covid got them. And somehow the solution was: stay home, don’t see anyone, and try not to lose your mind in the same place you now eat, sleep, work, and spiral. Isolation didn’t just make people lonely… it changed them. Some people never came back. Some people realized they didn’t want to. Kids missed entire experiences of growing up, seniors missed the moments they were supposed to close their childhood with, and parents got promoted to full-time teachers overnight with zero training and no preparation. And while all of that was happening… we turned on each other. Masks, vaccines, opinions… like fighting each other was somehow going to fix any of it. Also… we all developed anxiety and just kept going to work anyway. So that’s fun. Things look normal now. But it’s not the same normal. And if you feel a little off still… yeah. That makes total sense.

Turns out my breaking point isn't utter chaos. Its vomit.

I understand my patterns, which is great because I'll likely be repeating them. This time with confidence!