I’ve gotten terribly tired of waiting. I want to stomp my feet, and scrunch up my face, and whine like a petulant child until I get my vaccine. When is it my turn? How much longer? What about me?
Oh, I know that the protocols will still be there; restaurants will still only be takeout; I won’t be suddenly having friends over; and, I’ll still be wearing a mask for some time. I know my day-to-day life won’t change much after my first shot. But getting that shot can’t happen fast enough for me.
It’s the next step forward. Its movement away from a year-plus-long state of limbo, and towards the promise of normalcy… even if we are still far away from things going back to normal.
It’s getting closer to happening but it feels like each day is exponentially longer as I wait my turn. It makes me feel impatient, frustrated, and melancholy. I know that’s all in my head. I know that thinking about it stretches my perception of the days before it happens even longer. That doesn’t seem to matter. What matters is that I’m still waiting. And yes, I’m still being cautious, I’m still trying to stay positive, I’m still taking my Vitamin D… and I’m still waiting.
I hear you. The jab can’t come soon enough.