As we quarantine ourselves from ourselves, learn how to make bread so good we never have to buy it again, rearrange what little furniture we do have, and make too many TikTok videos, let’s not forget the world that awaits us when we emerge. And no, I’m not talking about the museums, the parks, or the theatre. Below, you’ll find a list of things I personally can’t wait to experience again – join me, will you?
The only breath I’ve felt in weeks is my own and that’s completely unacceptable, and frankly, not that fresh. Come on! Exhale through those nostrils! Let me really feel the hot air!
I need human touch! You got pent up energy. And probably anger! And I’m here to absorb the blow as you storm through the first crowd you’ve seen in months, glued to your phone, snapping right back into that blind disregard for others that I’ve missed so much.
Right now the thrill of casually walking down the street and suddenly seeing a flock of birds take off eleven inches above my head sounds way more freakin’ exhilarating than staring at that bird painting for those twenty-three minutes that felt like hours, like I did last week.
I’ve been on the phone talking about “how I’m feeling” with literally every friend I’ve ever made, so I’m ready for some conflict! You haven’t had anyone to scream at for months. Come at me, Taxi Man and or Woman!
Enough with the face masks and essential oil bubble baths! I want some hot, unidentified steam that rises up from the doldrums of the city and into my unmentionables!
I’ve been walking through too many entrances too easily.
I need the jolt of the metal turnstile smashing into my abdomen, obliterating my reproductive organs, to make me feel alive again!
No one on my daily walks is coming up to me at all, let alone smashing their overstuffed backpack and semi-wet pack into my face! Bring on the Jansport, pals!
I’m only listening to my music, my podcasts, and watching my TV shows.
There’s a void. What say we all ditch our noise cancelling headphones for good, and let a cacophony of Michael Barbaro’s tenor from a man’s Google Pixel, some anime from a child’s iPad, and Cardi B from a woman’s iPhone reign supreme!
I keep a pretty clean apartment. And rarely there’s a wind tunnel. So my chances of getting hit in the eyeballs with specs of dirt, glass, and probably feces has been slim to none. Elements of New York City, collide! I want to crinkle my face, blink incessantly, and feel the dirt betwixt my teeth!