![]() I read news article after news article, and as the understanding dawned on me about how serious this truly was becoming, I began to get depressed. Then it hit me how real this actually was. ![]() I was convinced it was all a non-issue, a big misunderstanding. And I was sure we didn’t even need to wear masks at the grocery, and that this would all just blow over and life would return to normal “definitely by June or July” (which seemed so far away back in March). I was convinced this was a small blip on the radar, a temporary setback. I was angry and felt it wasn’t fair, especially to “the little guys” like me who had been fortunate enough to make a small business succeed even through the 2007-2008 recession, and who now saw no income coming in but didn’t quite meet the parameters for the small business bailout plan.Īround the same time as the anger, denial set in. But then as weeks turned into months, my emotions ran the gamut. At first when things slowed down I was relieved for the break in routine–the government-mandated respite from work. And hoping that we will be able to pick up somewhere near where we left off.ĭuring this time at home, I’m fairly certain I’ve gone through most of the stages of grief. We are all putting our lives on hold, essentially agreeing to put off celebrating milestones, crossing our fingers tightly and holding fast to the belief that when The Future arrives, it’s going to be bright. I can’t blame anyone, not even myself, since it’s fairly impossible to plan large gatherings when there is no way of knowing what the future looks like during a pandemic. Business isn’t just slow, it’s nonexistent. I have met with exactly one couple for wedding invitations in six months. Back in the rosy naïveté of early 2020, I couldn’t possibly know how hard COVID-19 would hit (demolish) certain sectors, and how many small businesses would be changed forever by it. If you had asked someone back then if they had their mask with them or mentioned the term “social distance” they would have looked at you like you were speaking in tongues. ![]() The prevailing lyric in that tune was “You’ve got to roll with it, baby…” and that seems to be what I’m finally doing, after staggering through the last six months wondering what the future is going to look like.īack in early February, very few people could have predicted what was coming down the pike. I’m showing my age here, but there was a song in the late 80s by Steve Winwood that I used to dance around the house singing to, jumping up and down off the furniture, using a wooden spoon as my microphone.
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