Beth Wolfe

Corona Contemplations: Beth Wolfe

Last Tuesday—
Or was it Wednesday?
Ok, on a Blursday sometime in the past month
(Which only serves to prove the point)
I came to the stark realization
That I’m living in a bizarre time warp
In which time seems simultaneously
And yet no matter how many hours
I spend on Zoom, Slack, FaceTime, WebEx, in the inbox, or otherwise—
Five o’clock rolls around and it’s
Never. Been. Enough. Time.
To manage all the replies
And tasks
And special projects.
But I (mostly) refrain
Form working all evening from the couch
Because all the experts talk about how you need to turn it off
Or you’ll be even less productive the next day—
And who has time (ha!) for that?
But even when I get seven hours of sleep
It’s more like seven hours of chasing or being chased
Or time travelling to when I was someone else
Doing something else
Somewhere else.
(The experts have an explanation for this as well.)
And all those years of being my own harshest critic
Are coming in so handy now
As the numbers creep up on the scale
Because I have years of experience of eating my feelings, too.
And what self-respecting Gen Xer
Is not going to turn to Pop Tarts
In her time of existential crisis?
So here’s to another Blursday
Fueled by cups of coffee I’ve lost count of
In the midst of a year not marked by 525,600 minutes
But by an infinitesimal number of doubts and questions
And few answers in return.

Beth Wolfe is an educator, mentor, leader and communicator living in Scott Depot, West Virginia. A native Appalachian harboring a life-long love affair with words, her writing is as eclectic as her background as an English and chemistry teacher would suggest. Her poetry was featured in the annual Body Shots performance at Marshall University in 2018 and 2019, and in the Women of Appalachia anthology Women Speak (Vol.5). Her house is full of jazz thanks to her husband, and dog hair thanks to her Golden Retrievers, Nica and Basie.