When All This Is Over

A list, in no particular order, of things I’d like to do when all this is over: 

  • Hug my mom

  • Eat at a restaurant

  • Go to the gym and touch every sweaty weight

  • Get nice and drunk with friends and then drape our arms around each other as we walk home

  • Thank a doctor

  • Look into protective plastic bubbles for my parents because the thought of their mortality is too much to bear, and now that I’ve spent weeks worrying about their safety, I can’t un-think it

  • Go to a concert

  • Become much braver

  • Run a race with thousands of people sweating and huffing on each other...and portapotties

  • Touch the subway pole

  • Go on vacation

  • Go back to buying groceries 5 items at a time, once a day

  • Order wine, turn to a friend, and say, “Here, wanna try some?”

  • Rub my eyes

  • Have moisturized hands

  • Get a facial

  • Get this heavy weight off my chest

  • Have my wedding

  • Go back to thinking of my dumb life and its silly problems

  • Campaign hard for whoever runs against this monster in office

  • Stop crying every day

  • Finally train my dog not to bark at every hallway noise

  • Return to NYC

  • Defeat the mice???

  • Live without fear.