I have been trying to write about stupid coronavirus for literally a month because I feel like *history* and *record keeping* is important or whatever but I have NOTHING TO SAY so here are some bulleted notes:
- Last month I lost my job. I worked as a marketing writing intern (my first ever writing job––it lasted six months). I'm not overly upset about it because I understand that my company couldn't really operate working remotely. All of the interns got laid off so it wasn't too bad. I think I would've quit anyway, it was too hard to work remotely for me, I have an impossible time focusing from home and school is far enough. I had to send the laptop I borrowed back in a box they sent me. Then I got ten more boxes in the mail which felt like a mistake but I waited too long to tell them or send them back so I just have them in my room. Oops.
- In the weeks before everything we to shit, people treated students differently––everybody knew we were ground zero. I'm NOT trying to say it was like being Chinese in the early days of the virus. I did not experience discrimination. All I'm trying to say is that people would give me a little nervous glance when they saw my backpack. People at work constantly asked me if I was feeling alright (like I would come to work if I thought I had a contagious virus) almost every day. It was weird.
- The busses felt less and less safe. It was FINALLY getting lighter outside in the evenings. I was looking forward to not having to freeze every night while I waited for the bus. I was also looking forward to not being (as) afraid to wait alone at my transfer stop––protected by the light of springtime. But sitting on those seats sent a chill down my spine. When work finally went remote (which lasted for two weeks before they let all the interns go), I felt a pit in my stomach looking at who was still left on those busses.
- On my last night in Seattle, we got take out from South Paw. All the chairs were stacked on tables and cleared to the side to discourage sitting. There were signs in the windows that said "Seattle Strong" and "Don't touch your face" in the windows. They were playing that song Brandy (You're a Fine Girl) by Looking Glass when we walked in. It felt like the end of the world. Like any minute aliens with loaded guns were going to burst into the pizza place and we'd pull out our guns and go to war. Instead, we got the last few pieces of cheese pizza (and one for free) and the lady could tell we were sad about leaving.
- Songs that never made me sad before made me sad when I was packing the essentials for the journey back home. Wide Open Spaces by the Dixie Chicks hits different when you know a Wide Open Space will be a scarcity.
- Spring break was spent watching movies and not writing. I saw the Godfather, basically every scary movie made in the 1980s and Slumdog Millionaire. Is that enough to say I watch "film"? The answer is no, I've only seen one Tarantino film. (Please don't roast me for that, I'm working on it).
- I hate zoom class and rarely talk. In real class, I'm one of those annoying students who takes everything too seriously but now I don't have any motivation or desire to pick fights with my classmates...maybe I'll get there, the quarter is young.
- Yesterday, there was a huge protest with thousands of people demanding that Washington reopen and send everyone back to work. At first, I thought it was sort of a nuanced issue. It's easy when you are very privileged to say that we need to wait until we are absolutely sure we can go back safely. If you're living paycheck to paycheck and you know that groceries need to be bought and bills need to be paid, you don't necessarily have the privilege to be "safe". But then we saw these people pull up with guns and confederate flags and maga hats and I did not think it was a nuanced discussion anymore.
- It was sad to see the election derailed by this. If there was ever a time to vote for universal healthcare, it was now. I don't know how this country can go through a major health crisis and not feel the need for a change in our systems. But, then again, I guess after the protest I can see how...
- Everything is incredibly up in the air. It feels like we all had plans for 2020 to be the best year of our lives and now everything is paused.
- It's important that I acknowledge my privilege in all of this. I have a place to live, losing my job wasn't the end of the world for me, I still go to school and can talk to my friends. Things could always be worse. (Knock on wood).
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