The Pandemic From the View of an Extrovert
I wrote this piece a couple of months ago and am finally publishing it on here, now. It seems finally that there is a lightness beginning to emerge at the end of the long, dark and despondent tunnel of the pandemic. As we all gradually gain access to vaccines, we can begin to breathe collective sighs of much-needed relief. However, the crisis is not over yet, and we must all stay vigilant to protect ourselves and each other by continuing to wear our masks and practicing social distance.
That being said, I invite you to take a peek into my mindset, as well as a tour into the dynamics of my mind a few months back in the midst of facing an antisocial… ahem, I mean socially distant winter at a more dismal point of time during the crisis. I hope you like what you find and feel that you can connect with my sentiments…
It’s January 2021 and I have been planted on my living room couch for what now seems like an eternity, each day blurring into the next. Well, at least we have finally escaped the black hole of 2020 and with this new year, comes renewed hope for a deep healing of the problems plaguing our nation, and the world.
I can’t even remember the last time I ate out at a restaurant. Of course it’s still too cold to eat outside and I am not willing to eat inside places, putting myself and loved ones at risk, potentially exposing ourselves to the coronavirus. Therefore, I now look forward to weekend hangouts with my “pod,” which consist of my husband and I and another one of our couple friends. We drink White Claws, we play Cards Against Humanity, and laugh and laugh. These cosy and simple yet, suprisingly fun nights in help feed my still voracious social appetite.
I have always considered myself to be a very social person, an extrovert through and through. My mom enjoys telling me of how when I was little, I would be so upset when company of any kind left our house. I simply wouldn’t want them to leave. I loved and thrived on company and social connection, deeply enjoying engaging with people from all walks of life and feeding off their warmth and energy.
Humanity and all its complexities with people’s differing tastes and interests, polarizing personalities and intriguing nuances and idiosyncrasies have always fascinated me. We all come here to this wonderful and odd home we call Earth with our own story to tell, and I love taking the opportunity to make myself privy to these stories. I believe there is value to gain from sharing and listening to each other’s voices, and it is through an open channel of communication that we can learn to accept each other and begin to mend the wounds of a world that we now find somewhat broken by division, hate and fear.
Although I was a little late to speak, struggling to organize my colorful and curious mind into connected and coherent thoughts, and needed some time in speech therapy to get me going, everyone likes to say that I have been making up for it ever since — meaning now I never shut up. Well, I suppose that was up until we have all found ourselves in the middle of a pandemic and have literally been shut up behind the doors of our homes, for almost going on a year now.
It has been, let’s say an interesting journey, trying to acclimate to a world beset by a mysterious plague, the likes of which feel more at home in a medieval era, or at least long, long ago. But alas, here we are, masks and all, adapting to the now tired phrase of “the new normal,” taking it day by day, trying to practice social distance as we strive to keep ourselves and loved ones, safe and healthy.
As we navigate this very strange and isolating existence, it sometimes feels like what once were social norms of interacting and engaging with each other will never be quite the same. Greeting besties and beloved friends with a tap of an elbow rather than a loving embrace has now become commonplace. Or when we do hug — and depending on people’s thresholds of comfort, indoors or outdoors — I always make an effort to move my head away from their body, so as to lessen the chances of whatever toxic germs my essence may carry from pervading their personal space.
I was thinking the other day, that regarding this new, stunted way we show affection to each other, for the time being at least, I am forgetting how I used to greet people. In my early 20s, I had a party girl phase, leaving my house decked out in glitter and glam, ready for nights out on the town. As I met up with friends or would become acquainted with new people as I networked, or whatever the story was, everyone would receive a hug and a kiss on or near the cheek. Or was it a kiss on each cheek? It was a special greeting that I had learned from watching and receiving it from others as I became accustomed to this dynamic, fast-paced lifestyle. This greeting carried with it an interesting combination of an air of confidence, and “socially acceptable” warmth.
Yes, I was one of those girls who eagerly performed this hug and air kiss ensemble, and I was proud of it. The idea behind this greeting was that in the presence of so many different people, it was more efficient to do the hug and air kiss. It was a dizzying carousel, the air thick with people, made up faces, textures, colors, loud music, and sweaty bodies. I felt so alive. Back then, it was such a thrill just to reflect on how many new friends I would meet in one night, my social network growing and growing. I had always wanted to be one of those girls, surrounded by people, noise and laughter, and in those days, I ate up the attention.
This couldn’t be further from the existence I know of these days. Now, leaving my house is an adventure in trying to encounter as few people as I possibly can. It’s like I’m in a video game and will win the most points if I make it through to my destination smoothly, unscathed from any kind of contact with humanity. A simple breath of air in my direction from a stranger will detract points, and accidental brushes against the shoulder are absolute no-no’s, doing even more damage to my video game persona’s health.
Trips to the convenience or grocery store feel like I am making my way through a labyrinth, seeking to find the paths less traveled and less populated, as I again attempt to avoid human contact at all costs. And if I do find myself in the same row as another customer, I retract my body backward, almost skipping my way around them in a dance to find myself once again in the clear, away from any enemies…*cough*… I mean people. It is a dance that feels very strange to me, coming from someone who enjoys people and social interaction so much, I even have a special place in my heart for small talk. Yes, I am one of those people, who if you’re waiting with me on a line at a store, or the DMV, or just in everyday interaction (again, that is not a thing these days of course), you could find me engaging you in a bit of a small talk, conversation.
I guess at the end of the day, I’m really just not one for silence, preferring to fill in gaps of time with genuine connections with the people around me rather than be held captive by the never-ending, circuitous chatter in my own head. Seriously, it’s a wild ride up there and I like quieting my own overactive mind with innocuous dabs of small talk. So, I suppose if I have hit you up for small talk at some point and you were wondering “who is this odd, unnecessarily outgoing, young lady?” — well, I apologize.
As my frustrations grew, feeling so disoriented from a lack of human interaction, I would find myself going out of my way to wave hello to delivery people, genuinely grateful for the packages they brought me, but also just honestly happy to be somewhat in the presence of another person, if even for the moment.
In the wake of this pandemic, our lives have become quieter and simpler, but this doesn’t mean they necessarily have to be smaller. As an extrovert, unable to direct my extraneous energies in social settings as I normally would, I have learned to use social platforms as a way of channeling my feelings into creative expression, while digitally connecting with people from all over the world.
Spending more quiet time at home also means I have also gotten the chance to experience what it’s like on the other side of the personality spectrum. This has translated into many Netflix nights and marathons, as well as quiet time with myself in my own head — because like it or not, it’s who I’m stuck with in this lifetime, so I better learn to like her now! And while that can easily turn into spirals of interminable, introspective journeys into a complex inner world, writing has thankfully provided a much-needed outlet for me during this time. That and trying to make banana bread, pancake cereal as well as keeping up with a slew of the other latest trends on popular apps like TikTok.
Whichever way you prefer to associate yourself as: extrovert, introvert, ambivert, vegan (they’re in a world of their own) we are all here in this same boat, just trying to make it through the day, anxiously anticipating when we can get our vaccinations and with them, hopefully a modicum of relief. And even though we may no longer be obsessively sanitizing every inch of our homes, surfaces, and delivery packages anymore, we are all still trying to be as vigilant as we can to avoid people and contact with the virus.
As I write this, I continue to sit here on the couch for the umpteenth day, my cats now believing and accepting that this is what we do now — that my husband and I are always there at home now, our laps open for snuggles or to watch them as they slink their way across our screens during Zoom calls. I look forward to having my house and life filled once more with people, noise, and laughter and yes, I even eagerly await when we can have safe, not socially distant small talk again.
