Travel Industry Blues: How the Pandemic Made Me Hate Travel

This was written in November 2020. Names have been changed.

In all my years (28 to be exact) of living, 10 of these arduous years have been spent toiling doing “work”. Work is a general term, and can encompass various tasks, such as cashiering, cooking, cleaning, and very rarely, doing something of actual value. All have been minimum-wage, maximum-effort ordeals, in which I have lost bits and pieces of my humanity and sanity. Bit by bit, these jobs wore me down to the nihilistic, angry, probably even more mentally ill and insane person I am today. And by today, I mean as I am writing this now, in the middle of a pandemic, crying because I have to work two jobs in order to appease the capitalist Gods of Bezos and Musk, that I am worthy of eating ramen packs and browsing the internet.

Today is November 24th, 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic is still ongoing, and while I haven’t checked my province’s lackluster announcement today, it is probably over 1000 cases again. I had a mental breakdown last night, as I am also grappling with my ADHD, rent, two jobs, a relationship, probably anxiety, and the detestment of the whole system. The whole system being, well, capitalism.

It sucks. A lot.

Did I mention I’m working two jobs? Because the sane people around me (my parents, others my age) have shown concern that I even have to do this. Others (my employers) don’t even care.