Dutch Lock Down Day Thirty

The past thirty days have been the longest three years of my life.

Can I get a #WhatWhat

But first the news:

Today was #NotAsBad as yesterday, but still not ideal.

Maybe I’m waiting for the next announcement that the lockdown will be extended? Or that schools won’t reopen this year?

Or maybe I’m reacting to A’s nightmares of abandonment?

Or I’m worried that those allergies are actually not allergies?

Or I’m waiting for follow up news.

It could be anything, really.

I don’t really care what the reason is, I just want to stop going back to bed and depression sleeping. I want to stick to my routines. I want a vaccine to be found, tested, and mass produced. I want herd immunity. I want hugs.

I want to travel again and work at a cafe in the mornings again and go to the gym again.

I want to be healthy.

I want daycares and schools and swimming lessons and coffee shops to open again. Not that I frequented coffee shops, but it makes some people happy, so I wish it for some.

I want to be mentally resilient.

I want chocolate.

I want so much bread flour that we get sick of fresh from the oven bread and return to that store made stuff.

I want to be able to buy the store made stuff fresh from the grocer’s own oven.

I want cupcakes.

I want to meet A for coffee at Bistro Heerlijk and meet E for lunch at Haafs and meet S for drinks anywhere in Groningen.

I want to sit closer than 1.5 meters. With strangers. On a bus. Or a train. On the way to the airport. To fly to somewhere warm and beautiful and strange and crowded. With the whole family. Without fear.

I want the lockdown to end. Today. Because it’s safe. Spontaneously. It was all just one big practical joke that got way WAY out of hand and we pressed the easy button and are resetting the world and it’s all okay now. #hahaHA #YoureWelcome

I want world peace and an end to hunger and equality in every sense of the word.

I want a very specific email with a very specific update saying a very specific thing.

I want it to warm up again.

I want dinner to cook itself.

I want to know what you’re thinking, Warriors. Are you okay? How are you coping? Are you doing better than me? What is your secret?

I want to know why the compost recycling truck didn’t empty our bin. They emptied everyone else’s, but not ours and I have a theory that it’s because there were some very large sticks keeping the lid slightly open and we have learned our lesson, but hoo boy we have SO MUCH MORE compost and yard waste and now we have to wait another two weeks before we can get rid of that massive pile up in our backyard and I’m not waiting that long to trim the hedges, P. I WON’T DO IT.

I want a coke. And a smile.