Prompt: Adapting, Post Covid-19

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How have you adapted to the changes brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic?

Sometimes I save Jetpack writing prompts as drafts so that I have something to write about later, should I feel so inclined. Obviously, if I want to be writing, I should be writing more for my book (Dissolution Protocol) that I haven't touched in four months. But, it takes a certain mood for me to be able to get into the state of mind that I need for writing fiction.

That out of the way, how've I adapted to the changes brought on by the pandemic? It depends on what changes you mean? Have I learned to deal with most drivers on the road becoming more aggressive than they were pre-2020? You can't tell me that you, as a driver, haven't noticed it.

I've definitely adapted to most smaller gas stations suddenly closing at nine or ten in the evening every single day, for who knows what reason, post-2022. Of all the things you might need in an instant, or suffer being stranded, a gas station is one of them. But I've learned to plan around my gas tank, and figure out which places are open should I need to fill up late at night.

It's seriously as though half the world has chosen to ignore that not everyone works a cushy nine to five desk job.

But that's always the most evident at the end of each week when the normals holler out, "IT'S FRIDAY!"

I think, if I could say I've adapted to anything, it is the idea that any one of us could be gone tomorrow. It's not an idea that's far-fetched. It's not something you can really scoff at anymore and go, "Yeah, okay. But not me."

Yes, you.

And everyone else.

It doesn't even have to be covid. It could be a car accident, it could be a consequence of murder or abduction. It could be because a guy in the supermarket was mad about his tomatoes being rotten, and because aggression is something gripping this country by the neck, he could whip out a gun and go postal.

It could be, just because it was your time to go. It could happen while you're sleeping, you could suddenly slump over at work.

It could happen at any time, anywhere.

And I think that's something the pandemic has really drilled into my head. So much so, I still struggle with ... finding my sense of self, ever since then. Every couple of months I feel like I'm trying on new personalities, trying to figure out what I like most, where I belong, who I am--before it's too late.

Just like, I'm kicking myself every single day that I don't have my next book finished. But the drive isn't there, so I don't do it.

Just like the clock in my head says it's ticking, it's melting away, and you're still not married, you still don't have children, and you can't even muster a proper conversation on a dating app.

It's the feeling of impending doom, I think, that I've adapted to most. With nothing more than the feeling of just being ... numb to it.