I redrew this panel because I didn’t like how it turned out
I can’t believe July is over. It feels like it’s only been a few weeks since there were first rumblings in my office of the possibility of working from home. It’s been over four months and the whole situation is just as surreal as day one. That being said, I have been able to find a pretty stable routine for myself and consequently, I don’t often sit and think about the particulars of how this pandemic is affecting every facet of our existence. I’ve been staying busy and haven’t spent much time wallowing in the social, political, and economic ramifications of the pandemic. Indeed, the outlook in every category is dire.
I do enjoy contextualizing this year on a larger, generational scale. Barring a significant personal tragedy, I don’t think any Gen Z-er could argue that 2020 is not the worst year of their lives. I certainly couldn’t make that case. It’s fascinating to me, to think of this as a watershed period that we will all remember and tell stories about to our grandkids. It’s akin to a world war in that sense, a global conflict that uproots daily life and challenges preexisting social, political, and economic systems. But instead of an external aggressor, this enemy is internal. This battle is not won by force or mass mobilization, but by isolation, caution, and patience. The common denominator, however, is the psychological toll. Social distancing leads to suffocating loneliness, chronic uncertainty to crippling anxiety. I wonder what the long-lasting societal and interpersonal impacts of this pandemic are going to be years down the line. Will people have to relearn certain social cues? Will people be generally more distrusting of each other? Which social activities will have the greatest resurgence? Bars, clubs, bowling alleys? How much of this shift to working-from-home and digital interaction will persist once the world reopens? Just a few things to ponder late at night….
It’s easy to slip into hopelessness. I parsed out that it’s not the inability to physically leave your home and freely roam that’s what’s distressing; it’s knowing that if you wanted to, you couldn’t (or at the very least, couldn’t do it without some forethought). It’s not the fact that I can’t hop onto a plane and fly to Paris; it’s knowing that if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to - that is what’s depressing. Especially for someone my age, relatively fresh out of college. The world, you were promised, is your oyster. But that oyster is well and shut, and the only way to get that pearl is by prying it open (which is admittedly unhygienic). I was planning to move to LA around this time to pursue my film career and while, in theory, I still could go, it would certainly not be the wisest life choice. I feel like I’m in my prime and I should go out and see the world, learn as much as I can, make as many mistakes as I can, but instead I’m wasting away in my apartment. Wasting may be an exaggeration, but I’ve had to find ways to flourish within certain aspirational limits. I can’t get on the set of the next Hollywood blockbuster, so I settle for making little comics. Don’t get me wrong, I love doing Day and Age, but it’s the fact that the decision to start it was based on, in part, something out my control. I chose to start D&A, but I didn’t choose to be stuck in my apartment. I found a creative outlook within my confines, but those confines were mandated for me. D&A can still be good (I think it’s good) and can still be enjoyed by people, but it will forever be tied to this period of my life and this pandemic. Right now, that’s just the name of the game. You gotta roll with the punches.