I’m trying to remember the last time I had a proper Taco Tuesday.
It had to have been at least two years ago, back before the Crow Flu. It was one of the few times at work that I enjoyed myself-had a friend that worked nearby and she’d come over. There was a Mexican place near our mutual jobs that we picked up lunch, used one of those little mini urban “parks” to enjoy lunch and hang out together.
This was good for me, very good. I’ve always been…introverted? Insular? Something like that. I had a three hour commute to and from work then, and most of my friends were on the opposite side of San Francisco. Any trip to see them was definitely a planned-out day trip, and I was spending far too much time on my computer.
The last time I went to downtown San Francisco, it was like someone shot the city in the head. It’s dying, but the body still twitches. The Mexican place I liked? Closed, at least six months. Most of the shops and stores are closed and have the dirt and grime of “long term closure.” The few that they are open? You see a lot of security guards, safety systems, and face masks.
Always face masks.
Downtown SF streets were packed during the day-people going to and from work, hitting the various stores, some shopping. Now, the homeless have taken over the sidewalks-the few people still there are half-running from place to place, almost as if they were afraid that they’ll be attacked.
Which they might. The few times I was out in places in San Francisco, even “high end” places like the Haight-Ashbury or Hayes Valley, there’s piles of glass from smash-and-grab attacks on cars. Broad-daylight robberies of people in Oakland-which had been doing a lot to turn the corner and try and make it a good place to be again.
There’s been this depth of depression and frustration, like cheap rippled fudge from a tourist trap in Fisherman’s Wharf. Places that I know have been closed and will never really, truly reopen. Friends have left the area-most to Texas, a few up north to the Seattle area. Trying to find a job has been like pulling teeth-every job that has a decent salary and benefits wants to have perfect unicorns filling their job postings. And, the jobs that are desperate for anyone?
I’m not that desperate, yet.
It feels like a broken record, skipping the same old song and the same old music, but winding down as things break down in the record player.
But, I won’t give up. I can’t give up. The world matters to me, and I matter to myself.
I’m working on things-a new novel, school, and projects of all sorts.
It’s always a work in progress. And, I will complete my projects.
Big Bootay Books 