Dear America 2020:
With the last quarter of 2020 now underway…seriously, 87 days and counting until 2021…I would like to issue a small but meaningful request.
Please, kindly pull your heads out of your asses.
Go ahead, I’ll wait. Now’s not the time for timidity. Really plant your hands and push. You have an oversized cork in that wine bottle of a brown star. Get a foot up on that ass cheek and really generate some torque. You might have to call some friends and bring in some heavy machinery. But whatever. Do what you must. Come on snowflake, you can do this!
When this whole COVID shit started, a very prestigious paper product company, who shall remain nameless, started a radio ad campaign expressing their deepest heartfelt sympathies for…wait for it…those of us who were short on toilet paper. It was a very poignant ad, soft, emotional. They promised they were working around the clock to ensure that we would not lose our preferred method of wiping our dirty asses, thereby confirming my suspicion that we, in our first world privileged brains, quite possibly see the problem of dirty asses as equivalent to, say, a pre-teen who has missed her sixth meal, or an adolescent facing removal of his hands by way of machete if he doesn’t join the latest rebel faction.
Jesus. Jerry. Garcia.
Look, here comes another hard truth: Your problems don’t make you special. Most of us know someone who has gotten sick or died as a result of coronavirus. Governments are still mandating masks. Both parties are still snot-nosed, privileged asshats. Politicians still approve ads that do little more than slander their competition. People still use social media as their sole basis for forming political, medical, and religious opinions. Travel has been restricted for most of the year (in my case, a shot down trip to Costa Rica AND to Outer Banks). But I pressed the fuck on and made Sedona, Arizona happen, and we’re slated to head to Mexico this month as well, right on track with my 2020 goals.
We humans love convenient excuses to NOT step out of our comfort zones. Coronavirus conveniently gave us everything we dreamed of in that regard. I can’t because of COVID. COVID stopped me from doing this. If it weren’t for COVID, I’d…you’d what? What a grand year for us to slip under the warm, cozy covers, go nowhere, do nothing, associate with no one.
FUCK. THAT. NOISE.
In 2019 I started a yearly blog post for my year in review, for two reasons: First, to live intentionally, and with purpose; second, to inspire you to live your best fucking life. And when we get to the end of the year, you can bet your pale-from-staying-indoors ass that I will have some stories to tell for my 2020 year in review. Also, relax. I follow protocol to protect myself and my fellow human beings. In my 2019 year in review, I committed to several real, measurable goals. I’ve been working on them all year, despite several distractions and a few botched attempts at a few of them. I’m nonetheless closing in on them.
So, I’m urging you, for the rest of 2020, pull your head out of your ass and get the fuck out there. There’s life to live. There are experiences to be had. You have one quarter left.
Get after it. Cheers.
Image Creds
Title Image: “Head Up Ass” by blacksheep101 at https://www.ebaumsworld.com/images/head-up-ass/58073/
Blog Post Image 1: Selfie.
The Impossibility Movement 