The COVID Effect

 Okay. I think we can all agree that this COVID thing has gone on for entirely too long. 

Now, I'm not talking about the fact that we have to deal with the depressing daily statistics, or the crisis in education, or the fact that Portillo's still has only a limited menu. No. I'm referring to the way this thing has affected the simple pleasures and routines of daily life.

 

Take fashion, for example. We used to study the latest clothing styles and trends, and then outfit ourselves accordingly. (Well, not me, so much, but I have it on good authority that lots of people did.) Lately, though, we've really lowered the bar. I personally overheard the following conversation between two women at Kohl's, where I was returning yet another Amazon package:

 

"Oh, wow, I LOVE your face mask! Where did you get it?"

 

"I made it."

 

"You're kidding! And did you make the lanyard too?"

 

"I did."                                                                                      

 

"Well, no wonder you look so put together!"  

     

Friendly conversation has also become less than scintillating. I have a gaggle of friends who identify as the Frentes, after characters on the TV show The Goldbergs. We used to meet for a hearty breakfast on Wednesday mornings--the somewhat ironic offshoot of our weekly attendance at Weight Watcher meetings--and chat about everything from jobs to family drama to world events. Now we still meet, but it's on ZOOM. And where once we still managed to have some high-energy gabfests, here is one of our more recent exchanges:

 

"So…what's new?"

 

"Nothing." "Nothing." "Nothing." "Nothing." "Nothing."

 

Silence.

 

"Oh. I did finally get to see my new granddaughter on Facetime the other day."

 

"That's nice! How did she look?"

 

"Blurry."

 

More silence. Finally, one of the Frentes brightened. "Wait! I have something. Did you hear about Barbara?"

 

We leaned into our screens. "No. What about her?"

 

"She went to lunch the other day and…she ate INSIDE the restaurant!"

 

"No!" There was a long pause as we absorbed the enormity of that statement. Finally, another Frente looked solemnly into her camera.

 

"We will never speak of her again."

 

Yep, it's bad. And because we're getting less satisfaction from social interactions, many people are hungry for new entertainment. For a time, summer provided opportunities for golf, bike rides, and socially-distanced outdoor gatherings. But now that the sun is already setting earlier and earlier, we find ourselves returning to ritual TV viewing. Unfortunately, people like my husband and me have watched almost everything we care to watch—Killing Eve, Ozark, and The Bachelor: Greatest Seasons Ever! (What can I say? We have eclectic tastes.) I didn't realize how desperate we were getting, though, until I turned on the TV the other day and felt an electric shock rip through my body.

 

"Hon!" I screamed.

 

"What? What's wrong?"

 

"Get over here!" He charged into the room. I pointed.

 

"The screen-saver pictures on U-Verse have changed!"

 

He plopped down next to me and we watched for twenty minutes with happy little smiles on our faces.

 

But there's something darker happening, too--something I call the COVID Effect. I define it as a tendency to want to inflict bodily harm on others for no good reason. For example, one of the creative mask-and-lanyard makers mentioned to me that she had made one hundred additional sets to give to friends and to people in need. I wanted to slap her. And little children no longer seem particularly cute, especially when they are screeching outside of an ice cream shop and are within kicking distance of me. And I don't want to name names, but one of my relatives, who has been endlessly knitting scarves, recently switched to nooses.

 

The vaccine can't come soon enough.