With the boys back in various schools and programs, and Steve returning to the office this week, things should be returning to normal. I should be gearing up for a return to freelance writing. I really want to have an opinion on the Biden’s budget, Congressional battles, and mask mandates, but I haven’t yet thrown myself into the debate. My social calendar should be booked solid. I should be returning to back to pre-March 2020 me, but I’m not.
Things that I thought were important, don’t feel so important anymore. Socializing takes more effort. My entire world for a long time consisted of three other people, one suburban home, and a Netflix account. I am not sure that I can go back to pre-March me. There are too many scars.
Last week, I spent 20 to 30 hours on chores for Ian. He probably should go to a residential program that specializes in kids with high functioning autism, which can help him with the transition to college, social skills, and independent living. The status quo is not sustainable. One of the tasks last week was organizing a movie/burrito night for teens with no friends last week. Those poor kids, and their families, are in really rough shape after the past two years. I can’t solve these problems on my own.
I wonder if other people are also struggling with reentry into the real world.
