Some Good News

Some Good News

Remember that trip to France that never was? I apparently get to have my money back. Air Transat is now offering refunds to everyone who is eligible for one. Yay!

When airlines started cancelling most of their flights last year, everyone who bought a non-refundable ticket was offered a flight credit in lieu of their cash back. Le Hubs wasn’t happy with the flight credit situation at all. He was right to feel that way. If one pays for a service, and the service isn’t rendered, then one should get one’s money back. But as a former travel agent, I already knew what became of unused economy tickets – the chances of getting your money back are slim. That is the price you pay for affordability; you either use it, or you lose it. I was happy enough to get flight credits with Air Transat that would last for all eternity – or until they got bought out by God knows who. In my view, it was the best possible outcome, everything considered. (Don’t you love lowered expectations?)

Could I have gone to my credit card company to get a chargeback? Maybe. Many people chose to. I didn’t see the need, because we like using Air Transat, and at the time, I thought we’d get to use my flight credits once COVID died down. I also don’t particularly enjoy being on the phone because of my hearing impairment, and with the volume of calls the airlines were getting last year, I would’ve been on hold forever. I figured I’d be able to use my flight credit around this time this year, but I was wrong on that count. No one could’ve predicted how long this pandemic would drag on. We were overconfident about living in a more enlightened, more advanced time, weren’t we? I don’t think we feel that way anymore. Nothing like a little virus to cut one down to size.

Anyway, It took Air Transat a year to finally give people back their money, and I’m sure people are going to grumble about why it took forever, but I’m happy. Better late than never is my ninja way, so good on them for coming through. And good on the Canadian government for providing the bailout, which, wait a minute, is really just my tax dollars in action, so… oh drat.

In Which I Think I’ve Finally Had It

In Which I Think I’ve Finally Had It

The bestie is going to Rhode Island next week for a friend’s birthday trip. There’s a part of me that’s happy for him, for managing to carpe the diem despite living in a country that is burning down around his ears. And there’s a part of me that’s envious. I’m envious of his ability to throw caution to the wind. I’m envious because I can’t seem to.

I am angry with myself for being such a scaredy cat. It’s like I woke up one day, realized that a.) this virus isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, b.) it may not be all that easy to shake off for my demographic and c.) have hobbled myself ever since by restricting my movements mostly to work and home because I can’t seem to silence the inner voice that keeps screaming “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”

I’ve spent the night in a haunted jail. I’ve slept with a dinner knife under my pillow after booking a $25/night bed in what, in hindsight, was surely a borderline illegal hostel. I’ve taken numerous walks in the dead of night, under questionable lighting, from my place to the main road so I could catch a jeepney to work. I’ve travelled solo. So why can I not do this? Why am I so cowed? Why can’t I bring myself to take up the reins of my normal life and take the risk? 

I’m tired of doing my part. I’m tired of staying in. I’m tired of avoiding crowds, tired of avoiding people, tired of wearing a mask in public. I’m tired of hand sanitizers. I’m tired of keeping my distance.

I’m tired of following instructions.

I’m tired of this heat.

I’m tired of streaming shows. 

I’m tired of numbing my feelings with food. 

I’m tired of avoiding most of the news cycle. I’m exhausted. Every time I think we’ve done it – eating Tide Pods? Gender reveal parties? Humanity finally hits rock bottom! – the news comes on and I realize that noooo, we are not done. Not by a long shot. There are still new depths to plumb.  I’m tired of reading about selfish, uneducated assholes who believe Covid-19 is a hoax. I’m tired of protesters who think mandatory mask-wearing is detrimental to their health and an assault on their freedoms, tired of idiots who think “it’s over” and have illegal bonfire parties at the beach with crappy music, tired of people who walk around thinking “well, I already have it anyway, so I may as well be out.”

I’m tired of borders. I’m tired of feeling hemmed in. Tired of the 9-to-5. I’m tired of watching people act like it’s fine to carry on the way we used to, and I’m tired of being in survival mode all the time.

I’m tired of all the politics. I’m tired of sexism. Of racism. Of victimhood. I’m tired of clapbacks. I’m tired of cancel culture. I’m tired of illiteracy. I’m tired of stupidity. I’m tired of social media. I’m tired of YouTube drama. I’m tired of the incessant Twitter pile-ons on the cause du jour of the day. I’m tired of the desperation, of the incessant grabs for the spotlight, of all the stunting people think they need to put online to grab attention. To grab validation. I’m tired of the hate. I’m tired of Tik-Tok.

I’m tired. I’ve spent the last few months using work to distract myself from the apocalyptic hellscape that is 2020, and you know what? I think this is it. I’ve finally hit a wall. I’ve run out of gas. I’ve had it. I am going to have to get over myself and this ridiculous fear sometime. 

My grandmother walked to school in the middle of World War II, and would hide in ditches whenever planes flew overhead. Compared to that, this is nothing. Besides, I’m tired of being afraid. I’m definitely tired of complaining. I’m tired of being tired. I will find that fine line between bravery and foolhardiness, and I will walk it – I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but I will.