August was not a pleasant month for me.
I went into a weeks-long crash, unable to do much of anything but lie in bed with my migraine cap on, reflecting on what I wish had gone differently over the last several years. Sometimes I think about the week I caught the virus, but more often I think about life before the pandemic entirely. A world with no virus, I imagine. Some random combination of events strings together differently, back there in the fall of 2019. It all works out the way it didn’t. SARS-COV-2 never infects a human, or never makes it to this side of the Pacific. What would life be like?
I recently wrote about how much time I spend wandering around in my memories, revisiting friends, concerts, parties, bars, even jobs and trips to the gym. It’s strange though; even old photos have an air of doom about them. Like there’s a ticking clock over my head. 18 months until everything changes, I think. I didn’t know.









