Dear Mr. President,
As a concerned U.S. citizen, I can no longer remain silent in the midst of this pandemic. While thousands of people across the U.S. are suffering from the Coronavirus, there are millions more who are suffering in a different way. You see, like so many other Americans, I am a victim of the lockdown that has gripped our country. Allow me to provide some background on my story.
Last August, after twenty-two years at the same company, I retired with the full support of my beautiful, fully-employed spouse, ready to tackle the next phase of my life. For me, the ‘next phase’ was really shaping up to be something special. In the mere six months since my retirement party, I had grown into my new life in ways I had only dreamed were possible. I made a commitment to improving every aspect of my life, and to say I was succeeding would be a vast understatement. On the health front, I exceeded expectations, easily surpassing the National Sleep Foundation’s recommended 7-9 hours per night, as well as clocking a daily 60-90 minute nap in further compliance with the Foundation’s guidance. Hey, they’re the experts, right? And if this pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that we should always believe and follow the advice of the experts.
Being so well rested immediately paid dividends in other areas of my life. With a clear head and extra energy, I was able to watch all eight seasons of Game of Thrones, all five seasons of Breaking Bad, and even re-watch all nine seasons of The Office and eleven seasons of Cheers. And that’s not all. I was able to focus more energy on my Instagram and Twitter feeds, streamlining my Instagram follows to only the best meme accounts that I can share with friends and family via text, What’s App and Marco Polo and narrowing my Twitter follows to only those I agree with completely, creating the perfect echo-chamber for all of my beliefs. And in spite of the extensive time invested in these noble pursuits, I was still able to find time to put together a workout regimen that I planned to start in mid-2020. I could go on, but when I think about the first six months of my retirement, the term ‘thriving’ comes to mind.
But then March 2020 arrived, and everything changed. Why? Because you shut us down, Mr. President. In an effort to reduce transmissions and save lives, you shut us down. Certainly an admirable goal, but did you thoroughly balance it with the repercussions of a shut down? I can’t speak for every American. All I can do is tell my story – as one of the unwitting victims of the Coronavirus.
My wife’s company instituted a work from home mandate on March 16th, exactly twenty-five days ago. How do I know how many days ago that was? Because that’s how many days it’s been since I had a nap. As I write this letter to you, I’m wearing a shirt, my teeth are brushed, and I’ve already eaten breakfast – and it’s 10am. This is not right. And there’s more. Last week I trimmed and bagged fifteen holly bushes, removed and relocated twenty-three granite stones and meticulously sprinkled Amdro fire ant killer around every fire ant mound in our yard. Yesterday I replaced the engine drive cable in my mower, and tomorrow I’m relocating two stone planters in the backyard so we can plant a vegetable garden. I can’t keep operating at this pace. And that’s just outdoor work. The mental exhaustion is also building. While writing this letter I’ve already started thinking about which Purple Carrot recipe I’m going to make tonight. If this isn’t over soon, I’m going to be planning and individually cooking full, non-pre-assembled meals.
Never mind what’s happened to my relationship with the arts. I haven’t binge-watched a Netflix series since January. We just finished watching season three of Ozark – responsibly! One episode a night, so it would last longer. Do you have any idea how it felt to hit ‘pause’ on the remote each night as the next episode automatically started? Of course you don’t, because you’re an American patriot, and you binge watch everything – because YOU CAN. My entire way of life is crumbling around me, and if this doesn’t end soon, I’m afraid I may never get it back. My plans have even been thrown into chaos. For instance, we’ve been walking around the neighborhood EVERY day. At this rate I’m going to be working out WELL before mid-2020. Tell me how that’s good for anyone, Mr, President.
In spite of the way that this lockdown has impacted me personally, clearly turning my life upside down, I have supported it, confident that the lives saved are worth my sacrifices. But as I was standing in my basement yesterday, missing yet another nap while organizing the freezer and reviewing our beer inventory, I realized that enough is enough. It is time to recognize the hardships that this lockdown is bringing upon Americans all over this great land and to balance our desire to curb the pandemic with the pain that the lockdown is causing. Mine is but one compelling story in a sea of others, but I am confident it makes a clear case for what must be done immediately.
Mr. President, I implore you – send us (or more specifically, our spouses) back to work. Our very way of life depends on it.
Regards,
The Sport Dork