As warm smells of cinnamon and nutmeg fill the air, I cannot help but ponder how we landed at the end of 2020 so soon. It feels as if yesterday we barricaded ourselves in our homes to spend the better part of the year “slowing the spread”. And now, 10 months later, we are still masking up to brave society. For me, these threats of invasive germs are a bit closer to home, considering my grandfather - who has not left his assisted living facility - contracted COVID. What irks me about this whole situation is that while we cannot even see him this holiday season, and we have not visited in about a year, others felt the need to take their loved ones off the premises, effectively bringing germs back in to find viable and vulnerable hosts. At this point, he is fairing well, stringently monitoring his temperature and multitude of preexisting conditions, and let’s all pray that he can fight the germs he did not ask for.

Because of the pandemic, Christmas - just like Thanksgiving - was a bit emptier than years past. Yesterday, Mr. Know-it-All made a good point: my immediate family has not been fully together in the states with our traditions since about 2016 or 2017. Let’s hope 2021 will be drastically different than this year, i.e. - a year where I get to become Mrs. Know-it-All.

While there is still hope catapulting me into 2021, I noticed many different tunes slowly changing the melody of this Christmas: my dad being mandated to work another 8-hour shift because 12 someones decided they deserved both Christmas Eve and Day off more than others, and of course these were last-minute offenses. This was the primary offense because Christmas should be spent with family from sun-up to sun-down. However, do not assume that I am naive to the current state of the world. I fully realize the stakes, and I despise the fact that while most adhere to the rules to rid the world of ridiculousness, others find it perfectly acceptable to only cite rules when they apply to the masses rather than facing their hypocrisy dead in the face.

I found myself angily scrolling through social media to see people traveling out-of-state only to then attend large gatherings, vacationing and returning to society as normal, while the rest of the world virtually celebrated across time zones or wore masks in the presence of their loved ones. Maybe it is a selfish act to let my anger win, but I’m frustrated just as much as the next person. I truly hope that the vaccine works and the world can return to at least a semblance of normalcy.

As I sat over the past few days cataloguing all the work I need to do this upcoming week before the break ends, I realized just how cumbersome this pandemic has truly made every little task. I’m thinking ahead to my novel and play units that will cap out the year, and I have realized that my dreams of escape rooms and mock-trials will be subpar at best considering either half of my students will be remote or we all will. That fact saddens my soul because virtual learning has hindered my creativity a bit this year. Revamping my predecessor’s materials to fit my virtual shells has become a headache enough that trying my hand at other means of virtual creativity has left me drained. I’m at a bit of a crossroads, and I hope this upcoming week sheds a little light for me on my next steps. Even sitting next to the tree surrounded by my newly minted electronic devices, I cannot fathom how to make the next 5 months exciting learning environments.

And yet, I am still happy. It’s odd that the thought of being truly happy sometimes still feels like I’ve lost my equilibrium. Or, maybe it’s because the world is still a teeming vortex of dark clouds and impossibility, but happiness should not be the overpowering emotion, right? No, I actually think that happiness should be the light, that little light that plows through the murkiness ahead. Today, marks 1-year until our rehearsal dinner, and let’s be real, it’s going to be the party of the year. All of the pent-up energies and desires to go out and experience life again will most likely culminate until December 28, 2021 when Miss becomes Mrs and all of our loved ones get to experience #OnceUponAThomas.

While Christmas this year was not what we had hoped, I am praying at full force that we can have the wedding we have been planning since May. I hope that 2021 breeds ground for new discoveries, a vaccine that works, success for all my loved ones, and the happily ever after I never knew I’d get to experience.

And that is the final installment of The Truth About Coffee for 2020. Posts have been sparse, but the universe had other things in store for me. I hope to accomplish a lot in 2021, and maybe this time I won’t have to spar with her majesty the universe as much. Until next year ...