Halfway through many of the days of the past few weeks, I’ve taken pause from whatever it is I’m doing, and think, or more often than not, say aloud, “what day is today anyway?” Good question. What day is today anyway? A better question may be, “does it matter”? It used to matter. Many things used to matter.

At certain times of certain days of the week many of us were expected to be places that we aren’t expected, or allowed, to be anymore since the plague rolled in and tied our hands of time behind our back. Those hands of time that pointed this way or that seem to be hanging forlorn and mute like a lop-eared basset hound, not allowed, or able, to climb on the sofa with all whom they care about.

I miss things, as I’m sure many of you do. Missing things is good I suppose, for if we didn’t miss things that are currently no more, then why did we give our time to them in the first place? Obligations of various shades I suppose. Things that may or may not have been of our choosing, but things more so of need and necessity.

I miss simple things. I miss walking into a classroom and attempting to orchestrate a discussion that might move students towards thinking about something they never cared to think about before. I even miss when that attempt falls flat, and I’m left flapping in the breeze in front of the glassed over eyes of the unmoved and uninterested. So it goes.

I miss sitting at my wife and I’s favorite rooftop bar in Rapid City during happy hour, and just being happy in the company of the one I love, while looking out over the city and the hills that we enjoy so much.

I miss not having to think about staying six-feet away from people, and not viewing everyone as a potential COVID-19 dirty bomb that could cough me into a pandemic statistic. I imagine this, and the other things I miss, won’t gravitate back towards any sense of normal any time soon.

The curve we are supposed to be “flattening” is not so flat, and the hands of time that used to be so useful are not so useful. It’s an odd time to be a human. What time? I have no idea. The days seem to be on a loop, with the only difference being the state of my facial hair.

Should I shave? Should I shower? Should I put clothes on that weren’t put on for the past few days? Are clothes even necessary if you’re not mowing the lawn or cleaning out the gutters? If I weren’t married to a woman that I still attempt to impress more than depress, these questions would drift by unanswered before they were even asked.

What do you miss from the pre-plague days? A better question may be, “what don’t you miss”? What went away that could stay away? What matters?

All the best my friends. Stay well.