It’s Really

I worry too much. I have done that most of my life, however, and perhaps 2020 isn’t too different.

However, lately I think about the end of the road, and how close we may be to that juncture.

I should concentrate more on myself, considering my length of time on this earth, but as yet, I haven’t.

Instead I worry about the new variety of virus the media is confirming and the irrational anger I feel toward others not wearing masks and possibly spreading the virus.

I know my hostile glances in their direction are unappreciated, but hostile is a mild description compared to my actual volatile emotional reaction.

I never yearned to be a police-person. I rarely if ever interact with strangers, but I have no kind feelings of warmth towards the many individuals who seemingly feel they do not have the need to observe protocols. I caution myself against speaking loudly in reprimand.

Yes, I admit masks are uncomfortable and certainly inhabit hearing, speaking and to a degree, breathing. But in today’s world, they are a necessity.

Perhaps if everyone utilized them, the dreaded Covid might be conquered before spring.

I become senselessly enraged when I hear of three and four generations along with kindly neighbors breaking bread together. I speculate and wonder if they have been living on another planet without news, internet or even word of mouth.

Of course, the news coverage of leading politicians and yes, the notable health expert, who seemed to feel her family was exempt from the advice given others, seems to provide a permission slip for exemption of protocol.

Am I my neighbor’s keeper? Of course, not, and I am striving to remember that. But if I see you walking towards me sans a mask. please don’t expect a friendly handshake.

Masks save lives; please remember to wear yours.