I have spent many hours in a vehicle driving south on the 99 or the 5 on the way to Disneyland. The routine and the sights are familiar. Sacramento, Stockton, Modesto. Fresno. Bakersfield. Dry ugly nothing, then lo and behold the Grapevine. Then the vehicle enters the sprawl of LA and I feel like we’ve made it. Over 6 hours in the car and we’re almost there. But oh no. Wait a minute, or 120 of them. It’s still over an hour to Anaheim and there’s traffic. 

This is what I think of when I think of waiting for the pandemic to be over. I feel like I’m sick of being in the car. I want to get out. I’m anxious to see Disneyland (this metaphor is sadder for the fact that Disneyland is currently closed). We have a vaccine. We’re in 2021. It feels like we’re almost there, but are we? I’m in LA, but I’m not in Anaheim, and I’m certainly not in Disneyland. It feels like there’s bumper to bumper traffic and I’m afraid an accident ahead will bring us to a standstill. 

I’m afraid of the slow production and release of the vaccines slowing us down. I’m afraid of the Covid variants bringing us to a standstill. I just want to get there. I just want to get out of this small car. And right now, sitting down and eating inside a restaurant, taking a day trip, or seeing my friends without the fear of spreading or contracting a deadly virus would feel so special, it might as well be Disneyland.