Maybee, Maybee Not

I’m writing this on a Thursday, I think. It could be Tuesday. I’m not entirely certain where in the week I am. I know I need a blog for next Monday. Probably.


The days have morphed into each other like dozens of drunk amoebas. Okay, okay. Pre-Pandemic Beth had trouble remembering what day it was, but that Beth had a routine with a job, caretaking errands, church, and… Oh. Yeah. Not nearly so many bombarding reminders of these “unprecedented, uncertain, challenging, trying times.”

Try to watch a movie on regular TV? Every commercial boasts a “We’re in this together” or “Stay safe at home” message.

So I switch over to commercial-free Netflix and Roku reminds me. Gently, though. Thanks. I’d forgotten I was safe at home.

Facebook? Forget it.

Check the business email in hopes a *paying* client has emerged from the ashes? Uh… another round of unprecedented and untimely triggers.

Okay. So no screens at all. I’ll venture outside.

The guy walking his dog past my house for the tenth time today? Both master and beast donning masks. A grocery run to Walmart where mobs swarm the place as if they’ve won the lottery the day before Black Friday…

Nope. Not enough masks or hand sanitizer in all the world to deal with that. Didn’t like crowds six months ago. Don’t like them now.

Oh these unprecedented, uncertain, challenging, trying times.

Seriously, writers, get some new adjectives for 2020.

I have a thesaurus. Let’s see.

Absurd. Preposterous. Fetid. Muddled. Rancid. Onerous.

Enter the UFOs, we can add “otherworldly” and “alien” times.

Cue the murder hornets and we add “venomous” and “searing hot poker rod” times.

Wait. Stop. This post wasn’t meant to be a rant, but a more forward-thinking outlook for May. Shake off the negativity. Think, Beth.

What next. Do some goal-setting.

Maybe… Pull out the planner I bought in NOVEMBER OF LAST YEAR. (hahahahahahahaha)

Writing something in it.

Tomorrow I will… dust! Yup. That’s a good place to start. Saturday I will… vacuum.

Oh, good grief. Cross those out, I know I won’t do them. I want to sink brain and energy into something with a tick more meaning than cobwebs and dust bunnies (though those “bunnies” are more akin to “moose” and pudgy orangutans could swing from one or two of those cobwebs).

How can one forward-think through this? I’ve still got that lone inebriated duck waddling around that I’ve got no idea what to do with.

Came across this YouTube short while reading Kristine Kathryn Rusch’s blog. (Really, it’s like the woman crawled inside my head and wrote her blog just for me. Thanks, Kris! And even if you’re not a writer, you can gain some “reframing” through her insights.)

The video is hilarious. If only Pandemic Beth could travel eight months back. Explain, even vaguely, what was to come to clueless Pre-Pandemic Beth. How would I have reacted with the knowing? Hard to tell, but the clip is sure fun…

It’s not at all as dire as my rant-that’s-not-a-rant paints it. We’re safe. We’re well. We’ve got amazing friends and family. We’ve got food and toilet paper and three rescue fur babies and roofs over all the heads. We’re blessed.

Years ago I decorated one of my classrooms with bumblebees. The rules for the kiddos went something like: Bee kind. Bee on time. Bee prepared… You get the idea. Simple. Doable. Memorable.

If you’re overwhelmed, go back to basics. And some days, accomplishing the basics of decent humanity is goal enough. What am I thankful for? How can I bless someone else? Smile. Wave.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Patience, young grasshopper.

Write down the dreams. Write down the goals, even if those goals look much like drunk morphing amoebas because of a foggy view of the future.

Maybe May will be better than April.

Economic collapse. Korea. UFOs?

Maybe not.

Shake it off. Focus.

Bee the bulldog. He looks fairly Zen, right?

Nothing at all like a murder hornet.



And now that I’m thoroughly grounded with a fresh attitude adjustment, I’m finally off to hunt the elusive dust moose.

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