Saturday, May 23, 2020

Haven't you had enough?

I mean it’s just one thing after another! I don’t know about you, but I’ve had it. H. A. D. I. T. Up to here, baby!

Haven’t you had enough of the grocery store? They’re always out of everything! One day it’s pork chops, the next day it’s peanut butter. Peanut butter! Not a drop of it, empty shelves, nada, whooshtt! What did they, stop growing peanuts? And I can’t get my blueberry muffin. Why’s my blueberry muffin against the law?

Haven’t you had enough of all this hoarding (and of people spelling it “hording,” what did they, skip high school entirely?), of the store being out of toilet paper and tissues, and of having to toe the line at the checkout, and, oops, wrong way pal! No going down the dog-food aisle in that direction!

Haven’t you had enough of this mask business, these “face coverings,” whadayacall’em. They’re stuffy, and they’re hot! If you’ve got a beard, they’re itchy, too. Everybody looks like a train robber from some old Western. Here’s what it does for your looks: zero. And they fall off! I’ve got a pretty good-size schnoz, and this mask of mine keeps falling off the tip of it. Gravity being what it is. So I reach over and tug it back up — HEY! DON’T TOUCH THE FRONT OF YOUR MASK!

Haven’t you had enough of waking up some nice sunny morning — and then remembering: it’s not so nice. There’s this invisible sickness around, and it’s not going anywhere real soon, and neither are you. Haven’t you had enough of finding yourself getting used to this prison you find yourself living in? “Well, it’s really not so bad!” Oh yes it is and by the way it’s only just getting started. Haven’t you had enough of distancing, of zooming, of “protocols” and “contactless,” of virtual this and virtual that, of “we’re all in this together,” because clearly we’re not.

While we’re at it, haven’t you had enough of the deer ticks and Lone Star ticks and dog ticks, and black flies, and mosquitoes, and West Nile and East Nile and the Emerald Ash Borer, and all the rest of them? Haven’t you had enough of poison ivy and garlic mustard and the rambling brambling thornberry bushes and all that whole tangle of invasive crap that you have to beat back with pitchforks and shears and vinegar spray (no RoundUp for you, what, don’t you care about the honeybees?), and you just know already who’s going to win that battle.

Haven’t you had enough of trying to remain upbeat like a good little citizen, and of trying to support everyone, your local pizza place and your local florist and your local farm stand, and your church and your public radio station and your art museum, and all the other places you usually support anyway? Everybody’s got their hand out! Suppose the economy tanks but good and you lose your income, you privileged person you. The system used to be rigged in your favor and now it’s come crashing down, and now you come crying for help, and who do you think’s going to lend you a hand? And haven’t you had enough of feeling guilty about having such thoughts?

Haven’t you had enough of people getting sick and people dying? So much death, every single day. You get accustomed to it. You do! “Look here, only 116 new deaths today; hmm, that’s not so bad, it was twice that many last week.” Haven’t you had enough of people being worked to death while politicians posture (and beg for cash) for the elections we may or may not have? Haven’t you had enough of the jockeying and spin control and lying and spite, the shameless bias and the loaded questions and the not-so-diplomatic evasions? Guy on the radio said the other day we’re living in a failed state now, that we’ve already gone and tipped right over the edge.

Well. It was very upsetting to go off on a big long rant like that. It’s not like me. I’m sorry, I really am. I felt so bad about it that I had to do something, so I grabbed my gloves and my mask and drove down to the store and went straight to the frozen aisle and got myself a pint of Chubby Hubby and brought it home and sat down and ate half of it in five minutes. Then I took a breath, and ate the rest of it, and licked the spoon. At that point, I knew I’d had enough.