Items
topic_interest is exactly
tired
-
2022
Teachers are Tired
Now that we are ending the 2022 school year, many people have "returned to normal". Most students no longer wear masks in schools. However, we are still working through the pandemic. Teachers are still at risk for contracting COVID and are navigating the severe behavioral problems of students. With summer approaching, everyone is looking forward to a break from an extremely stressful year. -
2022-03-17
Working Through The Pandemic
Going through the Covid-19 pandemic is truly a test of endurance and adaptability. Wearing masks, sanitizing everything, and social distancing with the hopes these efforts help slow or help communities manage the virus was always talked about and put into action in day to day life as the new normal. I wasn’t concerned at all about the virus as I am pretty germophobic normally, always trying to sanitize my hands and surfaces that I want to involve myself with because of past experiences with being sick. When I got sick, I got sick hard, and I wasn’t about to take a chance with Covid either. However, this became an increasingly daunting task after I started working at a small mom and pop health foods store in my small town of Hilo, Hawai’i. Our clientele consists of people who don’t exactly want to cooperate with government mandates or fully believe in pharmaceutical science. Trying to be understanding of people’s beliefs and wants is one thing, but trying to be professional in spite of the outrage toward the mandates and that outrage being directed toward crew for upholding those policies is another. For the past year and a half, I have been stretched pretty thin on towing the line between being understanding and accommodating for customers and crew while also trying to maintain my own personal responsibilities and upholding local government restrictions. It is not easy to constantly hear complaints, belligerency, or contrasting opinions on the subject constantly with the added caveat of the building being an extremely small space. My solace that kept me going is the hope that this will be over at some point and not a new permanent reality. Until recently, we only had a limit of twelve (excluding crew members) allowed within the store at any given time. I was relieved when Gov. David Ige finally announced lifting restrictions and mandates on March 25th, as with high hopes we can all return to some semblance of normalcy before the new normal hit hard. The thing I look forward to the most? People not being upset at the mandatory mask policy, and crew not constantly voicing their opinions about -
2021-05-31
The News
With such deathly pandemic going the news would always be on tell us new information about Covid-19 breaking news . -
2021-10
Covid Online Zoom Memes
These memes show just how "zooming" was while doing school when we went online because of the Covid pandemic. Waking up and going to class was never easier. How it usually went is I would set my alarm for 5 minutes before class, make my coffee downstairs with my blankets wrapped around me and sit back down, just like it shows in the one meme I attached. Another way I would do things is set my alarm 2 minutes before class, login to zoom and go right back to sleep with my audio on only. I think many people can relate to these memes from the past year and it really sums up how online school or work went while on zoom. It is unforgettable. -
2021-03-08
Article: Late Stage Pandemic is Messing with Your Brain
I read this, & it struck a chord with me. Several elements in it range true. I thought it was important to save. -
2021-01-21
Cancer and Coronavirus
Once coronavirus restrictions were lifted in my state (May), I made an appointment to get the physical I needed in order to participate in the upcoming band season. After going over my family history and having a routine exam, my doctor suggested I get a mammogram although I'm only 34. I got everything scheduled, went to my exam, and two days later got a call saying my results were abnormal and I needed to come in for another mammogram and MRI. My entire family was worried about me and my husband felt so helpless. Due to coronavirus restrictions, he was unable to go inside the building for any of my appointments and I had to face many things alone. The doctor discovered a suspicious mass and I was told I needed a biopsy immediately. I had to wait 5 days, first, because I needed to be tested for coronavirus before they could do the procedure. After getting my biopsy, the wait for results took a couple days and when they came in, I was relieved to find out I do not have cancer! But, an already scary experience was elongated due to the pandemic and I was left without support for a lot of it. -
0021-01-14
Online Learning
My experience with remote learning was tough and hard. It was hard to stay focused while you're in your home theres so much stuff to do. Having no one to physically talk to or have lunch with is boring and it makes it harder to want to do school. School was already boring and hard but having no one around you to talk to you was even harder. -
2020-01-09
THE19 (Metaphor)
Imagine a hurricane approaches your beachfront community, a beautiful place of both cottages and mansions on heavenly stretching strands of sand and coconut trees. The storm started far out in the ocean as a tropical storm, an abstraction a week or more away. Then it developed into a category 2 as it approached the continent and crossed Cuba, still days away but becoming a concern. Before long, forecasts by experts confidently showed exactly where landfall would occur, the strength of the winds, the height of the surge, the flooding that would accompany it, the millions it would impact, the estimates of the extent of damage and disruption (and death tolls) predictable. You do the right thing and with your family and neighbors evacuate and move inland and find safe shelter. It’s inconvenient and uncomfortable at times, sharing and aiding your fellow refugees. They don’t have the brand of cereal and chocolate milk your kids like. They run out of Coke. But pitching in until it’s safe to go home seems the best and only course. And soon you’re glad you did because by the time the hurricane makes landfall the news come in that it is a Cat 5, indeed, “the second most intense tropical cyclone on record to strike the United States.” Imagine as you watch the pummeling rain and listen to the ominous wind and wait, you already know this story: “In 1969, Hurricane Camille claimed 259 victims along the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Most were guilty of only being on the wrong place at the wrong time, unlike twenty who perished while attending a beachfront “hurricane party” beer bash and barbecue. Despite evacuation warnings delivered by vehement emergency teams [experts], their festivities continued unabated. The partygoers definitely declared that the concrete foundations and the second floor location of their party provided plenty of protection from the impending hurricane. Their confidence proved to be tragically misplaced when a twenty-four-foot wave slammed into the apartment, destroying the building and subjecting the partiers to gale-force winds and violent ocean surges. Most of these hurricane worshippers were killed. A few survivors were swept miles away, ….” (The Darwin Awards, 1999) Imagine you know there are old folks in your very own town who chose to stay. Folks who just couldn’t imagine leaving the idyllic homes in their idyllic locations where they have lived in for decades, and who have weathered previous storms and thinking this one too “isn’t that bad,” or thinking. “Unless it has my name on it, it won’t get me.” You pray for them. But you also know some who stayed defiantly, the young and strong, and the middle-aged but “free” who resented being told by anyone what to do--especially by “experts.” And some of those protestors (an alarming number of whom you know) raised the bar, rebelled blithely, partying practically on the beach, posting selfies and videos on Facebook as the storm intensifies--to prove it was safe. As final proof, a video is posted of an engorging wave, a wave as large as any building you could hide in, a dark seething mountain of water. The video records shrill, exhilarating, victorious whoops of glee of the partiers it approaches. Then nothing. Now imagine, immediately you are asked by experts to stay in your shelter a little while longer, not forever, but much longer than you had ever expected to stay. Why? you ask. We’ve been so good. We did everything we were asked. We deserve to go home. We’ve run out of Lucky Charms and Quick and Coke. Despite your pleas and imploring, the experts are firm. Because, they say, a second hurricane is already coming, practically on top of the first. It’s not a Cat 5, yet, but…. This is unimaginable. This wasn’t forecast before. But, it’s here now, the experts nod somberly. Enough is enough. Enough is enough. Enough is enough, you hear yourself say, but…. Finally, imagine, dozens and dozens of your neighbors, even members of your own family, saying, I can’t take it anymore. This is not my life. I haven’t had a beer or a Buffalo Wings in days. You watch them, so impatient and tired of waiting and angry for the fun they miss. You watch them rush back to the beach. W. K. Sheldrake (Wayne) is the author of Instant Karma: The Heart and Soul of a Ski Bum, #1 on Outside Magazine Online’s list of “6 Adventure Books We’d Read Again and Again,” and Foreword Magazine’s ‘Gold Medal’ Adventure Book of the Year (2007). He is recording his pandemic experience of Pandemic Disability in a memoir The19: Confessions of a Mad (American) COVIDodger. He lives in Southern Colorado with his “high risk” wife where there is plenty of wide open space. They do not currently have a dog. -
2020-11-14
NPR short story November 14, 2020
I heard this short editorial of sorts during the 5pm hour today with my 4 good daughter on my lap at home. It helped me stop, reflect and take stock of everything.