We started this year watching people climb the fucking Capitol building like they were living out their Spider-Man fantasies. Literally, the most jarring scary shit. They were saying it was their house. I’d never felt like that. As an American who’d lived on military bases, I’d never felt like my anger was accepted as anything but annoying and troublesome, yet these 1^sts and second-generation Americans felt like they could tear up a government building like they actually built it on their own land.

And then I got Covid. I was vaccinated and tested positive a week after. Not being able to taste and smell sucked but I’m still here. The kid also got it. I drove him home from university with a mask on and nursed him back to negative test results. He’s welcome.

2021 was the year I had my first girls’ trip. It was to Seattle, WA. Very demure, very cutesy. No beaches for us! We went to the Space Needle! In Seattle was the first time I got high on marijuana as an adult and enjoyed it. We rode scooters through downtown and left chem trails. Twas glorious. This was the year I worked as a remote online notary. It was tough and paid little and I worked my ass of that year. No job meant I did everything I could to pay my bills. It was hard but also satisfying. Everything was tough. The kid was having a hard time adjusting to his environment at school, and I was just trying to pay the bills on time. And my uncle passed away. Our families first covid death. I streamed the funeral. I texted condolences. We TikTok’d and Tweeted. We celebrated birthdays from car windows.