Business as Usual

How nummy it is to have a business as usual here on this little ship of fools. . . With the approach of the second anniversary of the systemic shock which brought the 5 of us together, we almost feel prepared for the turn of the calendar page announcing back-to-school time. Almost. . . The maskites are still rumbling their threats of further chaos from the sidelines, but? ? ? Leaving them to mumble behind their masks from increased social distances, we feel reasonably safe printing out and believing the school supply lists. I was relieved to see that masks were on neither the kinder nor 3rd grade lists, though there are plenty of back-to-school mask ensembles available for the up-to-date fashion moguls.

Last year's back-to-school was hideous. It was our first as a family and so heavily Coronafied that it rides in my memory like a bizarre nightmare. I am fairly certain I would be unable to recognize any of the teachers which were such an active part of last year's school experience. The Pre-K teachers wore the see-through face shields, but my mask phobia still clouded attempts to look them in the eye. The marshal laws prohibited face-to-face contact, so those players remain more virtual than reality in my mind.

Our day-to-day activities have normalized, but enunciating that business-as-usual still eludes me. That normalization doesn't extend to **out there**. The evidence of the global shutdown is still entirely too present to trust. **They** shut dow the world once. **They** look like **They** would love to do it again. School is **out there**. I'm gently nudging myself past the mistrust.

Works in progress. . .