I Blame the Pandemic.

I blame the Pandemic. The terrifying time of COVID-19 when millions died. 

I blame the Pandemic for scaring the beegeebers out of me – and every human on the planet. A fear I had never experienced. Uncertainty and who do we trust was a daily issue. Besides grieving all the beautiful people who were lost, we all experienced it in our own way. 

I blame the Pandemic for the 10 lbs I gained. Because we were all going to die anyway so I’m going to bake all the bread and eat it. 

I’m going to bake all the chocolate chip cookies and eat all of them. All. Of. Them. 

We’re going to have mac and cheese (the five cheese homemade kind) 

and mashed potatoes smothered in butter and pizza 

and burritos and tacos every night. Because we’re all going to die anyway. Oh and all the chocolate. All. Of. It. 

I blame the Pandemic for adopting two little rescue dogs impulsively – and probably before we were really ready. Because we had just lost our Koko and Kizzie dogs three weeks apart and we were extremely vulnerable and grieving. Our new little dogs were found wrapped in a blanket and tossed in a ditch. So, yeah, two little dogs with big issues. We will soon mark five years with them and while they have overcome a lot, they still have issues and some mid-to-serious health issues. 

I blame the Pandemic for turning an already introverted person (that would be moi) into someone who no longer knew how to interact with other humans in real life. So all in all, the Pandemic as far as the "We're all going to die" part didn’t really bother me. I had my Many Paws and my husband and my hobbies 

and my books and my movies and video chats with my kids and grandkids, Happy Hour via Zoom with friends in other countries. I did dog training with the best dog trainer ever via FaceTime. I made blankets for the shelter cats 

and had two hour crafting sessions via Skype with my four year old granddaughter in the PNW. 

We even had a kringla making (Norwegian shortbread – another story for another day) video session before Christmas. 

When it finally felt "safe" being out in public I did so cautiously, tiptoeing back into the real world. 

Masked up I finally returned to my shelter volunteering. 

I was nervous in the grocery store and breezed thru my shopping list post haste. My social anxiety was maxed out so socializing was a challenge. 

But slowly, and with patience, a couple of dear friends held my hand, calmed my anxiety and hugs and lunches were possible again. 

I blame the Pandemic for my borderline hoarding because ordering things online whilst in my pajamas and drinking a glass of wine was waaaaay too easy. I needed a treat so I ordered a plethora of art and crafting supplies. I ordered storage bins to organize the plethora of arts and crafting supplies.

I blame the Pandemic for adopting too many cats. Well, technically the last three, a bonded trio, we adopted arrived in the fall of 2019 but, close enough.

So now in 2025 I have some of those same feelings I had during the Pandemic. I’m not so worried about my physical health (although bird flu is looming) as I am about my mental and emotional health. 

I find myself wanting to retreat back into my safe place. My home. Surrounded by my best friend of 33 years, my dogs, my cats, my art, my crafts, my movies, my books… Because it’s really scary out there. 

I am not religious but I am spiritual. I believe The Universe brings things to us and if we are aware, we hear them, we see them. I believe in signs. 

The other day I was cleaning a bookcase. When I removed a couple of books, this fell out on the floor. I’m still trying to process what The Universe is telling me. 

This is a scary time, a dangerous time, a time of the unknown and unfamiliar as to what lies ahead. So I try to find some solace in things like this:

“That breath you just took? That’s a gift.”  *Rob Bell*

Cherish every day.