First off, here’s a round-up of my favorite Corona-related blog posts:
Grace Under Lockdown | The Bitter Southerner ~ a description of what quarantine looks like in a Spanish neighborhood, as told by a recent transplant from Atlanta
Reckless Reverse Origami | The Untitled ~ a beautiful diary of sorts by a post-grad student in Brooklyn about the lead-up to the quarantine and everything we’re processing in it. a quote:
We will drift closer and closer to okay each day until we can dock our boats on the shore and dance together on the land that has been so far from us for too long, and when we reach that moment, we will celebrate and exhale and feel the fullness of life once more like we did Before, and we will claim it as our feeling for After.
Two and a Half Years Ago | Specula ~ musings on the importance of connecting with matter for those of us who often get stuck in our heads
(also! this is written by one of my lovely and talented King’s friends, so all the more reason to check it out)
There is a certain Distancing necessary. | Shreya Vikram ~ this post perfectly captures how I feel about what’s been happening so far. a quote:
When the storm actually hit us, we had no idea. We were caught blind, as they say. Like a girl walking down the road with the vaguest sense of the possibility of a car crash, the vaguest knowledge that it might happen, it could happen, just like any tragedy could, hypothetically, creep up on you.
Our eyes still stunned when the car actually hurtled into us.
Since most of us have a lot more time, I hope you check those out and that they are a blessing, a moment of connection and relief for your soul. I’ve been trying to do this thing where I save all the articles and blog posts that I’m subscribed to for Sunday and then spend an hour or however long it takes reading through each of them slowly.
Okay. Here are my lists:

the things i miss
about the pre-Corona world
Libraries
The thoughtless, uninhibited way we shook hands with strangers, hugged friends, patted coworkers on the back
The airports of the world open to us, beckoning to anyone with wanderlust and some extra savings (even if you couldn’t practically go, you could still dream. so many of us did.)
Knowing you could hop in the car and drive into any state you wanted, any city you were willing to stay on the highway for
People’s smiles, unhidden by masks
Restaurants loud with people talking and laughing, the foyers jam-packed with people waiting for tables, waiters and waitresses bustling around as couples blushed, families bickered, and groups guffawed
The subways and streets streaming with people, so many interesting people
Those gyro or taco food carts on corners
Dipping my communion cracker into the communal cup
The whole church turning to face the door as the pastor pronounces the last benediction, the sound of all of us moving, all of our voices lifted as one
The ludicrous ease with which I found anything I wanted, on store shelves or Amazon
Studying in coffee shops
Wandering through bookstores, exploring the mall with friends
Baseball: watching it, looking up the scores each morning, the comforting rhythm of its return with the spring
Tapping the buttons on a store’s keypad without a second thought—doing a lot of commonplace things without a second thought
Even the crowded subway cars at rush hour—even this, I miss
the things i like
about the mid-Corona world
The memes
The happy hour our neighbors had on the edges of their driveways
Seeing all these families out walking, toddlers and teens, finding their way along the sidewalks as if they’ve stepped out of a spaceship onto a new planet
The wealth of podcasts, books, and movies available right in my own home that I never appreciated
Zoom calls and live streams and how there are more communities I can partake of now than before
Realizing my neighborhood is full of people—it’s like they’ve all come out of hibernation, the houses overflowing with life ( I’ve never seen them before, and we live right next to each other)
All the art, the video concerts, the free streaming, the socially distanced compilations, the balcony symphonies, the Instagram collections
The connection with strangers: we can look at each other and grin and shrug our shoulders and know what the other person is feeling, at least in this part of our lives
Being reminded that my job, though low on the ladder, is important
A new appreciation for being outside, fresh air and sky and spring
Seeing how everyone is coping, all the creative ways people are using this time
This feeling that we’re living history, that we’re going to tell our kids all about this
Even the fact that I can’t make future plans right now—even this, I (am learning to) like
Hey friends, resonate with any of these? How are you faring?
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