This message is brought to you by the coronavirus, two and half weeks in.
[Tuesday, March 31st, 6pm] I think the lesson from today can be summed up neatly with this two-word, oft stated phrase in the Crowell Home: F*ck it.
I’ve decided that for today Imma let go into the mess. Really relax into the chaos. Settle into the shit, and get comfy.
Here we go:
I spent my entire day on zoom, which was glitchy AF as the entire world suddenly logged into it (F-You, Zoom! YOUR internet is unstable!) “connecting” with clients (F-You social distancing! I want to hug my people!) and being emotionally available (F-You self control! I’m going to dip my OREOS in wine!) while also taking care of my kids (F-You color coded homeschooling schedule! One tap for the next 5 hours? SCREENS!) and trying to stay on top of the mountain of videos I’m creating for my classes (F-You youtube auto-translate! Why must it take 73 clicks to find you?!?).
And for good measure: F-YOU New York Times app of doom, Facebook panic button, and [SAY IT WITH ME]:
F-THE-H out of you, Coronavirus.
Fuck all that, is what I’m saying.
I’m going to let my kids watch tv and tell my students the videos are delayed. I’m going to get a drink, lay on the couch, watch “Some Good News” and cry (all those “gratitude for healthcare workers” videos make me weep). Or maybe watch the Office and laugh. Or just close my eyes and pretend I’m on a beach far, far away from Zoom where the coronavirus does not thrive. And I’m gonna look like this, because F-YOU middle aged body!
Tomorrow I’ll re-engage my brain, hop back into the drivers seat and see where The ^Almost Daily Catalyst takes me.
What do you need to say f*uck it or F-You to?
I hope you take that break.