Okay, so there is no bunker. It’s my house. It just sometimes feels like a bunker during these strange times. I’m sure all of you can relate.
I hope everyone out there is doing well dealing with these odd circumstances we find ourselves in. I’ve never been on such friendly terms with sand sanitizing wipes. I happen to have a container of them in my console and I’m pretty sure my steering wheel is like, “What the crap, Annette? Suddenly you think I’m so disgusting that I must be wiped down every time you go somewhere?”
I posted this on my personal FB wall, and I’ve been thinking about it even more and wanted to expand on it.
“Does anyone feel like social media has made it so that for every discussion we have, or for every story that is told, we are expected to pick a hill on one extreme of the situation or the other and commit to dying on it?
Truth is important, but for nearly all situations that I am not directly involved in, it’s going to be impossible to know what the truth is, and in all likelihood, it’s not going to be on one extreme hill or the other. Truth is going to be somewhere down in that densely forested valley where actions, intentions, motivations, memory, political agenda, moral compasses, and emotion all mix together in tangled confusion.
This culture of pithy memes, brutal clap backs and epic mic drop moments has lead us to buy into the myth that deep and complicated issues can be summed up by a click bait headline or a political cartoon. Continue reading
I was headed home from college in Virginia, on a flight out of Roanoke. Roanoke is not large. The airport has all of five gates. I once checked in only 45 minutes before my flight and the lady said she wasn’t sure I’d be able to board on time. I couldn’t help the look I gave her. Did she really think that walking up the escalator and down two gates would take more than five minutes? Continue reading