No. 20 | Happy 2020... too?
I *really* didn't think I would have to deal with this again so soon.
I started 2022 full of optimism and energy.
We’d spent a quiet Christmas at home in Amsterdam, followed by an uncharacteristically springlike week in a fully open and alive Paris, with all its verve and glamour (and walking, and shopping, and macarons!).
Then we disappeared into a beautiful cabin in Belgium for a week of hibernation and reflection. We read books and played games by the fire, soaked in a hot tub under the stars, began training our child for the Hunger Games with her new bow and arrow. I’m only joking, of course. But hey, never too early to prepare them for the zombie apocalypse, right?
Late at night, after tucking our daughter into bed, my husband and I set goals and made plans. We encouraged each other to dream new dreams, and recommitted to making them come true together. After all, nothing is guaranteed, even after 14 years of marriage.
Upon returning to Amsterdam, I began writing Chapter 11—the second-to-last chapter of the book—on Monday. I was smashing through it. I was going to finish it today.
I had so much I wanted to tell you about!
But instead, I have to deal with this. AGAIN.
The two negative self-tests are Marlon and Tala’s. The positive test is mine.
Yes, I have Covid. For the second time. Less than three months after I caught it right in time for my 40th birthday.
Omicron is real, folks. This time, thankfully, it’s milder: a sore throat, runny nose, brain fog, muscle aches and fatigue. More like a mild flu or bad cold, so I’m treating it as such. I’m able to move around, take care of myself, even write a bit, though I’m convinced everything I produce is garbage.
If what I’m experiencing now is the endemic future of this virus, I’m okay with it. It’s doable. Just highly inconvenient.
Yesterday I was floored by mixed emotions: flabbergasted that I’ve come down with it so soon; puzzled as to where I could have picked it up if all the people closest to me haven’t got it; and frustrated that I have to slow down again just as I was building up momentum.
And I’m already bored with writing about Covid again. I apologize if this is not what you signed up for; if it’s any consolation, neither did I! This was not what I had planned for the first letter of 2022, which is looking a lot like “2020 too” to me right now.
But today I’m taking it slow. A day at a time. Resting, drinking lots of liquids, and gearing up for an hour of writing time each day until I feel like myself again.
Reminding myself that when I’m ready, my most clear and pressing goals will still be here—finish book, find agent, find publisher. My energy and drive will return. And life will resume, carrying me towards a future that’s waiting to be experienced, shaped, and savored.
How is your 2022 beginning? And what new dreams are you allowing yourself to dream this year?
That sucks! Again.. but thank goodness it’s mild and even better you all got away and had such a brill time. Easyyy on Deepa. And lovely read as always. X
hi! happy new year! yes, i'm tired of talking about covid again. very thankful that it's mild, even here, but hopefully we can just get on with it! i love tala's hair bagay na bagay with the bow - wildling!