A Year of Living Cautiously

 So tomorrow marks a one year anniversary: my last day in the office, and out to a restaurant for dinner. I remember it well.

Stuart and I spent the day going over cases, and our friend Allison, who Stu had hired part time to help with case prep, was there as well. At around 6, we decided to go out for some dinner and drinks. We ended up at a place right around the corner, on South Miami Avenue.

We barely discussed the plague. We knew it was here, but were hoping it would just be a few month ordeal. We talked about our lives and kids and in my case, grandparenthood. Our little man was just 2 months old.

We were still coming down from the glow of D2's wedding. It had been a wonderful party, and a great reunion for old time friends like us. We ate our pizza, and had a few drinks, and realized we were, by far, the oldest patrons in the restaurant. Brickell, like much of new Miami, is for the young.

We said goodbye in the parking lot in front of our building, figuring we'd meet again in several weeks. Ha. As if.

The next day, Wifey and I went into quarantine. We knew we'd keep an "extended bubble" -- getting together with our Ds and their men. But that was essentially it, for a good long while.

Later on, we had our haircutter come over. Mirta came by on her motorcycle one night, and we had a distanced meet, with masks. We met Paul and Patricia outside for lunch a few times.

I paid our cleaning lady Miriam for two months, without her visiting. Later, we started having her every other week -- trading with D2 and Jonathan, with each of us decamping to the others' place when she was there. She's coming today, and we'll head to D2's for a few hours -- even though Wifey and I are fully jabbed.

I remember talking with Paul, and his asking my prediction for a date when we'd return to normalcy. I answered May or June. Turns out I may have picked the correct months -- just the wrong year.

All of the cliches have been written about the good side of the plague -- what it's taught us about what's important and what's not.

For me, I've learned I can be quite happy being far less social than I usually am. I savor a weekly Zoom happy hour with Barry, his boys, and Eric, Dana, and Kenny. I get to drink and talk to my very funny and smart friends.

We've also had a few with Norman and Deb -- last minute jobs, which have also been great.

I wasn't much for travel before, and so that hasn't been a big deal. The only essential travel for me the past years was going to NYC to see D2 and Jonathan when they lived there. With them home in Miami -- eh -- I can go or not. No big whoop, as Mike Myers' character Linda Richman used to say.

Still, I'm cautiously optimistic the end may be near. Of the plague, I mean. I just read that jabs will be available in Florida to anyone within the month. Of course, the dumb asses who refuse the jabs won't get them, and that's ok, too. As long as those I care deeply about have protection, well, that is the best I can hope for.

I joked the other day that it was high time to start worrying about getting sick and dying of something other than Covid. Like all truly funny jokes -- that's based on truth.

But for today -- I choose to look on the bright side of life. I passed a neighbor, Ann, out walking this am. She asked how I was. I responded, sardonically, that like the Miami Dolphin great Jim Mandich said right before he died of liver cancer, "Never better!" Such is life.