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FTR, I'm in pretty good case. I'm going to be in even better case come January 20, 2021, but this? I will take this.
I should probably stop spending so much time on Twitter, though, because my feed (and my Facebook feed as well tbh) is a zero-waste store filled with locally-sourced pleas to people to refrain from gathering at Thanksgiving, ready to gush forth at the turn of a handle. A mon avis:
1) Nobody who is at this point seriously planning to visit family for Thanksgiving is going to listen to your appeals to decency, altruism, or the virtues of delayed gratification. Please save your keystrokes, your angst, and my optic nerves. It's not that you're wrong! I care about our health care professionals as much as anyone (after all, my actualfax day job is devoted to advocating for them), and I have been staying in the goddamn house for eight fucking months, desperately annoyed at the people who blithely go and sit in restaurants without a motherfucking mask, and I agree they are idiots who will kill us all, or avoid doing so only by sheer goddamn luck.
But please. Stop with the begging tweet threads.
2) No, really, stop with the begging. "I know it's hard. But please be brave." This is the kind of thing that makes me feel like I was raised by wolves, or like by the opposite of wolves because Not Gathering With Family at the holidays? Is what I do every year, and the only difference between this year and other years is that I now have a spectacular excuse. But even if that were not the case, even if I did go visit my family every year and were sorry not to be doing so now, this is not a decision that requires bravery. It is no harder than any of the other thousand goddamn things that we have been attempting to do without state assistance for the better part of a year.
We are in month eight of a vast, shambling fait accompli. This is a year of collective misfortunes compounded by personal breakages, public idiocies, and political malevolence. It's appalling, but not, at this stage, at all surprising.
But even if I were, say, at the end of my tether and had been counting on rubbing elbows at the dinner table with loved ones at the end of the year and half-demoralized to contemplate not doing it, I would still be deeply annoyed by randos on social media telling me to "be brave."
Like, I resented that kind of emotional condescension when I was five. How much more when I'm forty-five? And I have a feeling I'm not the only one.
Anyway, my birthday happens to be on Thanksgiving Day this year, and I have plenty to be thankful for, and I expect to make some chickpea curry stew and enjoy it in my little apartment by myself, and will have very little reason to feel oppressed. So yeah, probably should get off Twitter, then, heh.
This has been your friendly neighborhood periodic burst of Recreational Complaining. We now return you to your regularly scheduled broadcast.
I should probably stop spending so much time on Twitter, though, because my feed (and my Facebook feed as well tbh) is a zero-waste store filled with locally-sourced pleas to people to refrain from gathering at Thanksgiving, ready to gush forth at the turn of a handle. A mon avis:
1) Nobody who is at this point seriously planning to visit family for Thanksgiving is going to listen to your appeals to decency, altruism, or the virtues of delayed gratification. Please save your keystrokes, your angst, and my optic nerves. It's not that you're wrong! I care about our health care professionals as much as anyone (after all, my actualfax day job is devoted to advocating for them), and I have been staying in the goddamn house for eight fucking months, desperately annoyed at the people who blithely go and sit in restaurants without a motherfucking mask, and I agree they are idiots who will kill us all, or avoid doing so only by sheer goddamn luck.
But please. Stop with the begging tweet threads.
2) No, really, stop with the begging. "I know it's hard. But please be brave." This is the kind of thing that makes me feel like I was raised by wolves, or like by the opposite of wolves because Not Gathering With Family at the holidays? Is what I do every year, and the only difference between this year and other years is that I now have a spectacular excuse. But even if that were not the case, even if I did go visit my family every year and were sorry not to be doing so now, this is not a decision that requires bravery. It is no harder than any of the other thousand goddamn things that we have been attempting to do without state assistance for the better part of a year.
We are in month eight of a vast, shambling fait accompli. This is a year of collective misfortunes compounded by personal breakages, public idiocies, and political malevolence. It's appalling, but not, at this stage, at all surprising.
But even if I were, say, at the end of my tether and had been counting on rubbing elbows at the dinner table with loved ones at the end of the year and half-demoralized to contemplate not doing it, I would still be deeply annoyed by randos on social media telling me to "be brave."
Like, I resented that kind of emotional condescension when I was five. How much more when I'm forty-five? And I have a feeling I'm not the only one.
Anyway, my birthday happens to be on Thanksgiving Day this year, and I have plenty to be thankful for, and I expect to make some chickpea curry stew and enjoy it in my little apartment by myself, and will have very little reason to feel oppressed. So yeah, probably should get off Twitter, then, heh.
This has been your friendly neighborhood periodic burst of Recreational Complaining. We now return you to your regularly scheduled broadcast.
