Ah, yes. Another week to quarantine. When a friend who stays over in your home finds out that it wasn’t allergies and was, in fact, Covid-19. Pandemic times. Everyone involved was vaccinated — so thank God, it could be so much worse — but still. I’ve been wearing masks indoors in public again for the last week . . . work plans have already been cancelled for September. The delta variant. More mask debates. The fucking anger I have at people who are able to get vaccinated and have chosen not to. I am so tired of the negatives spirals and constant judgments.
Another week to quarantine before I can get an accurate test and be in the clear. Uff da. Around and around we go and yet unvaccinated people are going to Disney World, sending their Covid positive kids to school, acting unconcerned.
As one of my friends put it, “always so many new opportunities to be anxious.”
Luckily, it’s not a major inconvenience for me this week. Only a couple of minor plans were canceled. I won’t be able to see my parents. I can’t volunteer next Saturday in good concious. I’m thankful I work from home and have plenty of open spaces.
But also, fuck. I’m so tired of this. I did everything right: isolated, wore masks, quarantined, got the vaccine as soon as I was able. Most people I love did the same.
I don’t have anxiety about getting sick. I’m vaccinated. I know my risk is low. I’m also pretty sure I had Covid-19 last fall, despite a negative test. But I do have anxiety about contributing to the problem, being a carrier, killing an immunocompromised stranger, and never knowing about it.
Mini rant over, I don’t have anything new to add to this conversation. I’m just so tired of it.
With Love,
Natalie