Everywhere I look on social media, I see Zoom — as I’m sure you are. Instead of in-person writing retreats, there are Zoom retreats. Instead of in-person yoga sessions, there are Zoom yoga sessions.
In the case of my son, there’s Zoom school. (He’s 3. You can guess how that typically goes.)
You’d think Zoom would be easier than real life. Instead of getting ready to leave the house and drive somewhere, you just pop on Zoom, right?
Wrong!
No, before your Zoom meeting, you have to take a shower
It is not convenient, my friends
Example: Do you need to make a quick, masked trip to the grocery store or post office?
Sorry, the kids have a Zoom meeting at 10 a.m. and then again at 2 p.m. and then you have one for work at 4 p.m. It’s not like you can run by the store on the way back from your Zoom meeting, like you would if you were bringing the kids home from actual school because you haven’t even gone anywhere.
I know it’s all very necessary and the Zoom execs are sitting over there getting rich, but I’m just about Zoomed out.
I see ads popping up all the time about telehealth. Zoom health, essentially. Talk to a counselor — without leaving the comfort of your home! Speak to a doctor — while in your pajamas!
Here’s the thing, folks: I signed onto telehealth to talk to a doctor about some worrying symptoms I had back in March.
My hair was a mess. It was 2 in the morning. I was wearing pajamas (which, for me, means a shirt and underwear). I looked, in other words, like hell. The room was strewn with used tissue paper, Vicks VapoRup grease, and cough drop wrappers.
I had two options for this consultation with a doctor: video or phone.
Video would’ve been more helpful, but I chose phone.
Because video’s too dang exhausting
So send your invitations for Zoom retreats, concerts, parties, book clubs, and gatherings elsewhere, because I just can’t.
I’ll be sitting over here in my pajamas, surrounded by my messy house, waiting for the day we can do these things in person again.
