My Eyes Through Covid Color Glasses.
“We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”
Is it Over Yet?
Over the last year, I’ve deleted Instagram, reinstalled it and deleted it again—several times--but I can’t seem to stay away for good. For my own good. My friends and acquaintances post their workout bodies, their social justice memes, their quotes, fresh-baked bread, their sunsets and sunrises. Everyone is striving, achieving, meditating, measuring up and rising to the occasion of this crisis.
AM I THE ONLY PERSON IN MY TOWN LEADING A MUNDANE, NON-ACHIEVING LIFE? THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES TO SLEEP IN AND STAY UP LATE READING CRIME NOVELS? THE ONLY ONE WHO WATCHES CRAP TV OR HATES TO EXERCISE? INSTAGRAM EXHAUSTS MY SLOTHFUL SELF.
The Same but Different
The me who loves being housebound by rain, who hopes to watch all 456 Law and Order reruns this year, who can’t resist eating a bagel for breakfast even though it’s 11(!) Weight Watcher points. I wanted to come up with an epiphany that would lead to changing my life during this pandemic, but all I came up with is how much I love my big white cup of Lapsang Souchong tea in the morning, spying on the life and loves of the bluebirds in their nesting box, and my ordinary, unassuming corner of the world. Living while the sky is falling.
Nikki Hardin is a writer of stories, musings, and memories. Her poetry has been published in Riverteeth Journal. She was the founder and publisher of skirt!, a monthly women’s magazine in Charleston, South Carolina. You can reach her at nikki@thedailynikki.com.