I had been enjoying posting to my product review website, Sundry Buzz, but I have put that project on hold because suggesting things to buy seems kind of not cool right now plus most of what I had been ordering is from Amazon and between wildly unpredictable shipping times and a lot of yikes news around worker conditions that part seems not cool either. I super stand by all of those recommendations, though, if browsing is something you enjoy.

I’ve been trying not to go overboard with online shopping lately, but it sure is tempting to indulge in a little add to cart action now and then. It’s such a treat to anticipate getting that good mail, you know? I find Poshmark to be a solid diversion, I can spend an embarrassing amount of time just clicking around and looking at things without actually making a purchase.

I really miss dicking around in stores, it turns out. Thrift stores and TJ Maxx in particular: I don’t know why wandering aimlessly in retail aisles was so weirdly important to me, but it clearly scratched some sort of itch that can’t fully be replicated online.

Speaking of brain foibles and whatnot, I’ve had “find a counselor” on my 2020 to-do list for a while and finally did connect with someone who also happens to do online sessions. I suspect all counselors, or at least the ones who want to continue getting business, are willing to do online sessions now, but this person has apparently been offering them as a service for quite a while and uses a telehealth-specific video system that I prefer to Zoom.

We’ve had two sessions so far and obviously it’s a little early to report back on any life-changing results but I am finding it to be helpful. If nothing else, I like having that hour set aside each week for my mental health, and I like the accountability it brings.

Video chatting is not ideal in many ways but the plus side is the convenience and in my case a reduced sense of social anxiety/awkwardness that physical proximity can trigger. I can get really distracted by my own dumb face on Zoom but this system displays you at an angle rather than head-on, which helps a lot.

Anyway, it generally seems like a smart time to get some expert guidance with life stresses — or just having someone who’s there to listen — and it’s easier than ever with all the online choices. Like snooping around in a discount home goods brick-and-mortar, it’s not quite the same as being there in person, but it feels like a good investment. Unlike, maybe, the cute lip liner I impulse-bought the other day, having forgotten about, you know: MASKS.

I have a non-ideal mask situation as I wait for the ones I ordered a while back to finally arrive; it’s basically a hiking buff folded and tied with hair bands and either it’s too thick or too tight or I’m just a sensitive pansy because wearing it feels like breathing with someone firmly pressing a pillow into my face with murderous intent. I should just go the bandana route until I have a better solution because at least then I can pretend I’m enjoying some cowgirl cosplay during my infrequent Safeway outings: howdy partner, pardon me as I reach for them there Nillas.

Oh, the homemade, rinky-dink masks everywhere. This is one of the many things that are what you make of them right now, I guess: why not choose to view all the various cobbled-together face coverings as people trying their best to do the right thing for one another? But also: ugh, we are all so freaked out and uncertain and deeply, scarily unprepared.

Some people are out doing vigorous exercise in their masks, or at least I have seen joggers and hikers wearing them, and I find that pretty impressive. I am the type of person who finds the tiniest discomfort to be mentally insurmountable during cardio, I remember back in my running days when something like a butt-crawling pair of shorts would drive me absolutely batshit, so if you are out there doing wind sprints with fabric over your mouth then I salute you! From my couch. Where I am probably shoveling yet another fistful of circus animal cookies into my mouth, and not even the Keebler brand but the terrible discount kind from Bi-Mart where the frosting tastes like partially hydrogenated monkey sphincter.

I miss so many things that feel too dumb to even mention, and I miss bigger things like spending time with family and friends, and I miss seeing faces. My friend Anna and I have a habit of texting each other when we haven’t gotten together for a while: I miss your face! And while I have always been a social hermit I cannot believe how much I miss not just her face, but everyone’s face. Dear world: I miss your face.

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