I had every intention of coming back to you refreshed and filled with hope for this new (can it still be called new?) year, but alas, nothing has gone according to plan, and I’ve limped into 2022 as broken and bewildered as ever. It feels to me that things started sliding after I lost my favourite mask in mid-December. It was handmade, sold by my local art supply store, with super comfortable ear loops, a secure fit, and a print that seemed magically to match everything I wear. It had been my trusty companion for a few momentous occasions—my second vaccine shot, the first day at my new job, the first time I taught a university class—and I miss it dearly, although it is not a “high-quality mask” and Omicron would’ve rendered it useless even if I hadn’t lost it.
I am feeling this
This resonates so deeply. Thanks!