everybody, everybody

I'm posting two posts I wrote then sat on because I wrote them right before going to bed, and that's the scariest time of day. 

you know what's weird about this moment? the extreme everyoneness of it.

today, I was listening to my normal distracty podcasts (three advice shows, now that I think about it, although only one pretends to give real advice). this media, and others like it, have been my distraction through bad days, anxiety, and all the ones in between. there's a comfort to their routine. they come out on certain days, I know their rhythm, and what else I like to do while listening. they really have carried me through a lot. they have kept my thoughts at bay through hard days and nights.

and now they aren't even familiar. like the most uninteruptable format can't even stay the same. there's no wondering if the real advice show is going to answer a question that's painfully familiar. yes, it will. there's no escape to goofy brother banter, when they're not sure what level of goof is appropriate to global pandemic, creeping fear, and nationwide isolation.

there's of course, all the other stuff, the dance parties, and dinner dates, movie watching, and more that people are doing in new ways, creating togetherness out of apartness. and at some point there won't be new grey's anatomy for me to sneak off to for a good cry, because of course, they're shut down too. as weirdly hard to image as that is for me.