You know, in retrospect, it’s kind of funny that I thought I would be back to semi-regular theatre reviews back when I wrote my last post.
Oh, optimistic Effie. Should have remembered what you’ve been repeating to your students ad nauseam this past trimester (and which basically underscores almost all of Greek mythology): man makes plans, and the gods laugh.
I should say, though, that it wasn’t just the reshutting of theatres at the tail end of October that put a dent in things. There’ve also been some developments at work (in short: I’ve been given more inter-department responsibilities for this year) that have made finding time to write between marking papers, squeezing in agree review (don’t even get me started on how my imposter syndrome has come roaring back with this), and lesson planning while keeping an eye out for any last-minute procedure changes by our *incredibly* competent (ha) Minister of Education incredibly tricky.
So with all that, here we are again, December 31, 2020, with another retrospective post.
Overall, I have very mixed feelings about this year. Pandemic situation aside, it’s hard for me to reconcile a year of isolation and intense waves of emotional mess with the fact that I accomplished a MAJOR milestone this April. And there were other good moments too – holidays in Marseille, Greece and the South of France ; picnics and terrace dining when we got a bit of respite in the summer ; rediscovering Paris again (without the throngs of tourists) ; walks with close friends when we could finally meet up again. All of those small things were absolutely fantastic, don’t get me wrong, and I am very thankful that I and those close to me have been able to stay safe and in relative good health these past several months.
But the amount of stress that has been piling up – especially from going into work to teach in person, wearing two masks – had started to take its toll on me before the holidays started. Other than losing my voice (speaking/projecting through a mask is tiring as all hell), the constant worry about being sick while trying to survey teenagers to a degree I’m still not entirely comfortable with to make sure their masks were always on properly (spoiler: there’s always two or three in each class who seem to have trouble with this), and then going straight home without having any form of outside social-based distraction has made me feel so much like a cog in a machine that I started feeling like I had lost that sense of drive that had always propelled me through past hurdles.
I’ve been spending the holidays down south with a few friends (4 of us in total), who’ve also basically been isolating prior to this. Can one make arguments about the ‘selfishness’ or not of this? Yes. But quite frankly, I’m tired of that. I’ve spent the better part of the last year in isolation, and these past few days out of my apartment have been the most restorative I’ve had in a while. If this is what I need to make it through the next few months of what is bound to be incredible shit, so be it.
With all that, what else is there to say about 2020 other than good riddance? Maybe that my friendships were strengthened, that I survived it, that I can now officially buy a plane ticket under the title of “Dr. Gonis”.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the theatres will be open again soon (side note / rant: I find it absolutely hilarious/hypocritical that France, a secular country, caved and allowed houses of worship to reopen under limited capacity, but would not consider the same for theatre houses/cinemas. The official justification was that the government wanted to limit instances of intermingling, but anyone who has ever witnessed a religious service will tell you that is absolute nonsense, as evidenced by the mingling that happens pre and post-service). I may even predict that they will reopen before bars/restaurants do (although, dear god, I want those back as well). And who knows, maybe we will start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
But for now, I, we, survived. And we keep on surviving.
So long, 2020. Here’s to an average 2021.
Scènes sur Seine 