I wanted to start writing this today. I almost put it off until tomorrow. I didn’t.
For the vast majority of my life, I have procrastinated. Anything and everything, it’s easier to do something later. I procrastinate too much. Whether it was big, important things in my life, or menial tasks like emptying the dishwasher or folding laundry, I put it off.The last year and counting have changed me. I no longer feel
like procrastinating. I feel like it’s time to start doing stuff.
COVID-19 has changed so much about our world, and that’s
been a huge focus as a post-COVID world comes into view. Just this morning, I
read stories about rebound stocks, revenge travel, and whether or not federal
contractors will continue working remotely. There is so much unsettled about
what the world will look like in six months.
How much longer do we wear masks? How much longer do we wait
for the hesitant to vaccinate before mandating them to? What happens with
variants? How do crowds gather close again? How do we fix our broken health
care system? Can we truly eradicate inequity and inequality?
While these are very, very important questions, they look
outward of the human experience. There has been some discussion, but not
enough, on the inward focus about how the pandemic will fundamentally change
who we are as human beings.
I got my second shot a week ago and I’m starting to plot out
a return to some sort of normalcy. I want to see my friends. I want to go back
to restaurants, specifically the indoor parts of them. I want to see my
extended family and my cousins and my niece and nephew. I want to go back to the Belmont Stakes and back to a Nats game, maybe even a Wizards game. I want
to return to the Shakespeare Theatre with my wife for a play or musical that
she knows I won’t hate. I want to head back to the National Portrait Gallery.
The deepest feeling I have is I want to make up for lost
time.
One of the last things I did before the world came to a halt
was make a to-do list for 2020. I had high, high hopes for 2020. In fact, at
the top of the list was “stop procrastinating” because there was never any
urgency to my big plans. Life was good, or so I thought.
Instead, I went to Boston for a work conference two days
later and ended up at the epicenter of the first major COVID outbreak, staying
at the hotel that hosted the infamous Biogen conference the week prior. Upon learning
that news, I retreated to my hotel room to catch our former President’s disastrous performance at the CDC, where he openly talked about keeping those
sick with coronavirus on a cruise ship so his “numbers” wouldn’t look bad.
Pardon my French, but that was the exact moment I knew we
were fucked.
Suddenly, my list of big dreams didn’t seem so important.
For the next year and through today, I’ve been lucky enough to work from home
and my company has emerged relatively unscathed.
I am a week within invincibility. As my home of Washington,
D.C. takes a drastic step toward full vaccination and opening up, I have looked
inward about what will change with me. For so long, looking inward simply meant
keeping myself sane as it felt like the world crumbled around me. From the
Black Lives Matters protest through the insurrection, my neighborhood spent too
much time with windows boarded up. I spent most of January surrounded by tanks.
It’s tough to think about the future when it seemed like mere survival was in question.
Today, I feel better, and I need to take advantage of this
feeling. A year ago at this time, I was depressed. Today, I am invigorated.
The toughest thing about being a procrastinator is how hard
it is to break that cycle because your goals are not achievable in a short
amount of time. Even this one blog post takes time to write, edit, and post, all
for potentially no return. I’m not writing for the Washington Post. I don’t
have a million Twitter followers. Who knows how many will ever get this far?
If you did, thank you.
For most of my life, I’ve always told people to look on the
bright side and take advantage of situations that seem hopeless. Yet, for too
long, I didn’t take my own advice. Sure, there were spurts and fits where I was
humming on all cylinders, but it was far too infrequent.
Enough is enough, and it’s time for a change. The pandemic
has made it very clear that we have a very finite amount of time on this
planet. I need to start taking advantage of every moment.
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