Yeah, I saw the debate last night. No, I don’t want to talk about it.

traffic sign submerged in waterEverybody else seems so eager to do it, so I’ll leave it to them.

I’ll leave a lot to everyone else. The discussions of race. Of class. Of predation and victimhood. Of viruses and the ever-looming threat of annihilation (how the hell do you spell that? I had to Google it.) from something you can’t see and you may never even know is there.

I mean, yeah, I have plenty of thoughts about what it all means, how it impacts us, why we should care about some things, and why we shouldn’t give a flying whatever about others.

But I’m kinda done talking about the meta issues that everybody shares in.

Sorta kinda done.

Of course, I say that now… in another couple of weeks, I may completely change my mind and head in the opposite direction. There’s a reason I don’t get tattoos. Or piercings. Or magazine subscriptions (I’m still waiting for some of my frequent flyer “rewards” magazines to peter out – I don’t think I’ve read any of them, after the 2nd issue I pulled out of the mailbox). I change my mind. Sometimes drastically.

So, who knows? I may completely reneg on this promise to keep my trap shut about stuff Everybody Needs To Process.

But for right now, yah… I’m done.

And it’s funny… About 10 minutes ago, after cutting up vegetables to roast for dinner, I removed all the posts from this blog. Writing from the past 7 years that, at the time, seemed like a worthy contribution to the collective consciousness. I looked them over. And in the light of the current revelatory end times, I decided they weren’t worth keeping up. I didn’t delete them. I just switched them to draft status. I’m a bit of an essay hoarder, to tell the truth – I’ve got crap (and I mean crap) I wrote decades ago boxed up in the basement. But I don’t see the point in subjecting anyone else to their existence.

Not right now.

Not during these times.

And I wonder… what the hell am I going to do with myself? My employer laid off a bunch of folks last week, and I fortunately escaped. But I hear rumors of more “rounds”. Could be true. Or could be just more rumor. I’m still effectively in personal lockdown, since my partner is Very High Risk for COVID-19, and I can’t take any chances. A whole lot of stuff that used to seem So So Important to me… well, now it’s just a big “meh”. I’m getting older. I’m now old enough to live in one of those “active adults” condo communities where silver-locked seniors cruise around the wide streets on expensive bikes they can afford, thanks to a lifetime of diligent saving and hard-working corporate ladder-climbing, as they stop every now and then to pull their phone out of their pocket to snap a photo of something to share with their kids and grandkids.

How the hell did I get here? No clue.

But I’m here now. My hair is longer than it’s been since I was 13 and chopped off my pigtails in favor of a stinky perm that didn’t hold in my ultra-straight hair. My patience is limited for shit I can actually control. And I’m taking my Vitamin D3 semi-religiously with well-balanced meals (when I’m not defying death by rebelling against my Responsible Eating Routine). I’m old enough for employers to decide they don’t want me around anymore, and no one will blame them for ditching me. Meanwhile, I still have a home renovation to pay off, and sting of the medical bills that wiped out my savings 13 years ago still smarts.

I’m one of those GenXers who’s cynical and jaded and increasingly defeated. And I’m tired. I’d be angrier, if I weren’t so exhausted all the time, but who has the energy? I’m too busy finding my own way, in any case, to let it get the best of me. There’s work to be done.

Which is why I really don’t feel like discussing that debate.

I’d rather just do something – write a blog post, stand up another WordPress instance, SEO my content, check my Google analytics, check the roasting vegetables – and have something to show for it.