Hey weekend: I AM READY FOR YOU.
I had a lot of anxiety and back-and-forth arguments with myself in my head over whether or not to post today, what with everything that’s going on the world.
On the one hand, I’m white.
I have clearly lived and continue to live a life of white privilege. I can walk down the street with my daughter and a cell phone in my hand without worrying that a police officer might mistake it for a gun and shoot me down while my toddler watches. I can walk into a store without the eyes of every member of the store’s personnel immediately shifting towards me because they’re afraid I might steal something. I can send my child to school without worrying that someone won’t want to play with her because of the color of her skin.
Now that I’ve really begun to think about it in earnest, it’s amazing the the things I have lived my entire life taking for granted; the things that I have considered to be my inexorable rights, that for someone with more melanated skin would be aspirations at best.
Back at the beginning of quarantine when it seemed like we were never going to be able to buy groceries again, while my husband was in full on panic mode and begging me to stockpile all the things, I was like “It will be fine, I’ll just make EVERYTHING from scratch if we need to”.
Clearly I was very (overly) confident in not only the size of my flour stash but also that I would have the energy and/or ambition to do anything other than just survive for the first few weeks.
You know me, just giving us an excuse to drink margaritas on a Wednesday.
I’m allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll about that life. And apparently so is everyone else in NYC because I can’t tell you how many restaurants in a ten block radius of our apartment are doing curbside marg takeout starting from about noon every day. They set up these little bars in their storefronts that face out to the street so people can just stop by for a little socially distanced midday tequila shot.