“Stay home for Nevada”. That has been our mantra for weeks now. So many new words and phrases have become part of our daily dialogue: COVID-19, Coronavirus, social distancing, panic buying, flatten the curve, shelter in place, fear, blame, PPE, shortages, need, scarcity. These words and phrases are all part of the new social discourse, the new normal.
In Las Vegas, once the party capitol of the world, our lavish casinos, hotels, shows, and restaurants sit alone, dark, empty, and hopeful for the return of our tourists and the workers who will serve them. People languish in homes waiting impatiently on food, alcohol, or weed delivery. Waiting for things to distract us from the end, the apocalypse. It looks like the world will go out with a whimper rather than a bang after all. This is the new normal.
These thoughts swirl through my mind as I go about my day, working from home, trying to fight the guilt I harbor. As a fat, middle age, female introvert, I am enjoying working from home and having an excuse to stay in and relax on the weekends. I have been released from having to try to live up to society’s expectations for what I should look like and it is Heaven. I have traded business casual for t-shits and leggings. I shower at night and just roll out of bed, with my hair sticking up everywhere, I have coffee, and then I log in for work. I have not tweezed my eyebrows in forever, my hair has sliver strands throughout, and my legs are starting to look like the desert cacti. It is wonderful! I have become a feral creature. I do not think it is possible to reintegrate into society. This is my new normal. I blame the quarantine.
–Kristen Johnson