A year ago today, our VP came round the office and quietly told individuals and small clusters of people that, due to the COVID-19 pandemic, we’d be working from home for a few weeks starting the next day. From that day to this, I have not seen one of my colleagues outside of video meetings.
In the intervening period, we’ve launched a new
software platform, fought off cyber attacks, undergone a couple of
reorganizations and various other things. Teammates have recovered from COVID
and lost family members to it; they had to make the announcements via calls and
power through with only virtual hugs. They’ve had babies in the middle of a
pandemic and “returned” (to their home offices) from maternity/paternity leave.
One colleague barely scooted back to his post in Belgium before Europe locked
down in March; seriously, he got a client escort from the airport to his home
and stayed there for the next two weeks.
We’ve all got used to dogs, kids, delivery
people, plumbers and other assorted extras being part of virtual meetings. And
some of the not-on-mute surprises have been funny enough to keep us laughing
through some of the ghastliest times. (I’m thinking in particular of the outside-agency
woman helping with the launch, who admonished—well, I’m thinking it was her
son; I hope it wasn’t her husband—“No, do not touch your penis after
holding a jalapeño pepper!” Kudos for using “penis” and not a euphemism.)
We refer to the past as “the Before Times” and
try to imagine what “the After Times” might look like. Time itself has become unmeasurable.
We say, “At Wednesday’s call…well, maybe it was Monday’s…wait—what day is today?”
because it all blends and blurs together. We have no more natural barriers. (I
myself have worn neither a watch nor mascara since 12 March 2020. Time no
longer has meaning and no one sees me because I never turn my camera on.)
As a nation, we all endured the douchebaggery of
the elections and the surreal aftermath, peaking with the insurrection at the
US Capitol on 6 January. That’s not over, yet, but we have some hope with the Senate’s
confirmation of Merrick Garland as Attorney General. (Thanks, Stacey Abrams!)
We took to the streets (masked and distanced) to protest the killings of Black
people; and (not-masked and not-distanced but armed to the teeth) to support tyranny and White
supremacy. Millions of people lost their jobs, their businesses, their homes, while Republicans calculated ways to sluice billions to their corporate donors. We the People voted—in person and by mail—in record numbers, and we tossed the
bastard out. But there are more than half a million empty seats at tables
around the country and our loss is immeasurable.
We now—finally—have a national policy to fight
the virus, and maybe in the next twelve months we can finally have lunch with
friends, give and receive hugs, and drop into an optician’s office without
making an appointment.
It’s been a very long, very hard year. Stay
safe. Vaccinate. Wear your damned mask. I do not want to repeat this.
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