I had an idea to write a litany of my complaints about how difficult and tedious life feels in the late pandemic era, but I would have to spend so much time and emotional energy on bypassing my reluctance to complain when I have it relatively good, so I won't
Conversation
the only real venue I have for complaining about life, to verbalize my banal and unlikable boredom and frustration with taking care of a toddler, is with my therapist, who mostly just assures me that "it's normal"
2
6
one microcosm of suffering:
cold weather, no car, everything is closed, lots of time inside our small flat
only portals for seeing external world are (1) windows and (2) screens
we are urged to set boundaries; the toddler should NEVER climb to the window and NEVER see a screen
1
3
being near a window is an inevitable mortal disaster and watching youtube kills millions neurons in real time
we know this, and we must actively ignore it every day
2
2
moreover my Twitter timeline and the books I read are constantly reminding me of the utterly crucial nature of this exact period of the toddler's development
everyone is talking constantly about the subtle toddler trauma that haunts them in their thirties
2
2
is there a better description of the past half year than "nothing happening when something might profitably have happened"
1
2
yes yes I know
1
2
it's like we know that every day of this pandemic winter is imprinting trauma on millions of children and the might be something we could do about it but we're also tired and depressed
2
3
