2020 is coming to an end tonight. It was an odd year. Certainly not the worst year for me personally. 2015 and 2016 were way worse. It might be the worst year in my lifetime for us, though. When the year started, 2020 sounded like such a big number. The future had arrived. While I don’t think it qualifies as dystopia, the future is darker than I had hoped.
The pandemic hangs over everything that happened this year. In a lot of ways, I’m well-suited for pandemic life. I’m protective of my personal space, I’m kind of a loner, I’m a homebody, and I don’t like people touching me. But I really miss seeing people’s faces.
Unfortunately, the calendar is the only thing that resets with the new year. The November elections won’t even be finished tonight. COVID is still here, and it will be months before I get my vaccine. Civil unrest will be around for a while. It will take a long time for the economy to recover, if it does. Most of us will wake up tomorrow with the same anxiety we’ve been carrying all year.
The New Year is supposed to bring hope and optimism. I can’t quite get there. I’m going with a cautious “Let’s see what happens.” I’ll be happy as long as I can see my family for the holidays next year.