Hello old friends! I have not had the pleasure of writing to you gorgeous readers in quite some time; I’ve really missed you. You good? Shout-out to HowLongAgoGo.com for the following slap of reality, right to the face: as of this writing, it has been 244 days since I have graced the Watermark pages with my awkward tales and terrible jokes.
But I’m back, baby, and this time I mean business. And by “business” I am referring to my newfound yet still crippling anxiety and a recently acquired lifestyle choice of shaving my legs once a quarter. I’ll be the first to admit this is not the “new me” I had in mind for the new year of 2020, but knowing the majority of the population shares in this sentiment is oddly comforting. We’re all in this together, remember?
Along with the physical weight, I have gained some new perspectives and outlooks on this little life of mine. Why fear the future when the present is actively terrifying? It was around my 145th hour of playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons that I realized not only does hard work payoff, but so does distraction from the demise. I’m not saying we’re all going to die (spoiler alert: we are,) I’m saying we are all dying inside a little. Instead of focusing on death and destruction, you can use that energy for something else, like learning the WAP dance from TikTok.
You see, it’s not about dancing like nobody’s watching; it is about dancing like no one wants to watch, but they have to because they were forced to come to your recital that’s being held in a building with little to no cellphone reception. You only live once, so why not do most of that living in sweatpants? With all this newfangled perspective, I now have something definitive to look forward to: anything but this!
If there’s anything I’ve learned from 2020, it is that I have a lot of learning to do. Moments where my energy should have been used for empathy, it was being used in anger. My optimism was lacking and my despondency was thriving. It was hard to see that the grass was greener on the other side when the side you were on was so overgrown with weeds and assholes. Not only was my faith in humanity being tested, but so was the faith in myself. We’ve all had our share of curveballs thrown our way, so as depressing as everything above this line seems, I imagine it is relatable to some. Not all hope is lost, though. It just needs some help finding the way back.
The universe may be taking us for a ride, but if we’ve been able to hold on this long then we have to try to hold on a bit longer. It is like that time Fabio was riding a rollercoaster and got hit in the face by a bird. Yes, there was bird guts all over him, but he survived and his hair still looked magnificent. The past two weeks have felt a little like we’re Fabio, riding this fucked up rollercoaster.
However, instead of one bird it is an entire flock of feathered creatures that are smacking each of us in the face. We’re all waiting for the ride to be over so we can wipe our faces and keep on walking through the theme park. I don’t think I am the only one who feared that even after getting off the first shitty coaster, we might find ourselves on yet another one, getting struck in the face by more squawking fowl. We just want to ride the fucking Ferris wheel already, in all its slow and boring glory. Alright, I’m done with the amusement park euphemisms. All I’m saying is when I go to tell the story of 2020 to my grandchildren, it will be a multiple-part series where I curse a lot. Oh, and Fabio has beautiful hair.
By the grace of all that is good in this universe, it is with great and overwhelming pleasure that I am now writing to you with a clear line of sight of the light at the end of this awful tunnel we have been in for four years: HE’S MOTHER FUCKING GONEEEE! I started writing this Viewpoint with the election still underway and what seemed like a large cloud of uncertainty looming over all of us. Now, I get to write to you with the sun shining. A weight that has been lifted off the shoulders of so many as the world shared a simultaneous sigh of relief. Sure, the shit show isn’t over, but we’re strapping on our hazmat suits and ready to clean this mess together. We’re getting on the Ferris wheel, my friends. The birds are singing and our hair looks fabulous.
