Are we still doing this?

Hello from my part of the weird, weird world. Everything is still very strange, and I’m taking dance classes in my living room two days a week via the Internet.

The neighbors haven’t complained yet, but for an hour on Tuesday evening they can just deal with my tippety-tappetying. So there.

I’m sure that everything is weird where you are, too. Everybody’s weird is probably this odd breed of staggeringly-different-and-at-the-same-time-remarkably-the-same-weird, which is a comfort, I guess? The Big Weird is the same, but the individual little weirds are unique to each of us. My weird is going to work like normal, spending a lot of time alone like normal, but with this enormous overhanging dread of doing much of anything else. House to car, car to office, office to car, car to house, eat, sleep, repeat. I like spending time alone, but even I have a need and desire for human contact sometimes, and right now I don’t get to choose who I spend time with, and that’s slightly annoying. That isn’t to say that my coworkers aren’t a delightful bunch of people, because they are. But I haven’t seen the people I dance with in over a month, or any of my family, or any of my friends, and it’s starting to wear on me.

My birthday is coming up. If you’ve been following along at home, you’ll remember that I don’t like birthday fuss, and that hasn’t changed. All I was planning for this year was an afternoon/evening with a couple of pals, and cake. It’s a simple enough wish, I think. Sadly, it won’t be happening, for obvious reasons, and I have to admit that I’m feeling a bit pouty about it.

Yes, yes, yes, there are far worse things going on right now in the world, and in the grand scheme of things me not getting to hang out with my two best girls is hardly a blip on the radar, but since my new normal is decidedly weird and I haven’t had any kind of non-work-related socialization in what is beginning to feel like eons, I’m bummed. I just am.

I’m still going to make a cake, though. That, at least, I can do.