Ever since I was young, back in March, I’ve dreamed of my vaccination day.
How will it happen?
What will I wear?
What year will it be?
Will all my friends get vaccinated before me?
Will it be, like, the kind of thing where I’ve known it will happen for a long time, or will it be a surprise I-let-go-and-stopped-thinking-about-it-till-it-found-me sort of thing?
How will I know who’s vaccinated? Will the local papers write up vaccination announcements with black-and-white photos, detailing who got vaccinated, and when, and what makes them and their vaccinations so special?
Can I get de-vaccinated if things go south?
If all my friends do get vaccinated before me—because they’re essentially more generous people who know how to devote their lives to others—will I still be able to hang out with them?
Or will they all go on vaccinated-people dates without me?
Look, guys, just because I’m unvaccinated doesn’t mean I don’t like going to spin class, or to karaoke, or on group road trips with the option of rolling up the windows and turning on the heat.
O.K., fine, I can’t do any of those things without the vaccine.
But I can think about what kind of vaccine I want—Moderna or Pfizer? And about how I’ll spend my vaccination night. So far, I’m choosing between laughing really hard inside somewhere and going to a movie with a crowd of other vaccinated people.
For now, I can keep dreaming, or I can figure out a fast track through medical school, or I can finally become a teacher. Or maybe they’ll add aging singles to the early-vaccination list.
Whatever happens, my parents will be thrilled!
