Thankfully, I’ve never been to jail, but a recent period of 10 days – aside from the ability to have a beer with my dinner and the consistent presence of my cats, of course – is the closest I think I’ve come so far.

If somebody had asked me this time last year, I’d have said we’d be well on our way to emerging from the COVID-19 pandemic by now. As I write this on my 10th and – hopefully – final day of quarantining myself from my household’s positive cases, I’m not sure whether to laugh, cry or scream at my apparent naiveté.

My partner and I are triple-vaccinated and that, I vehemently stress, is surely why, almost two years in, we still have yet to contract the virus. Still, when we learned of our housemates’ positive COVID test results, we immediately implemented the various mitigation measures we’d discussed so often over the past 22 months.

We immediately placed cleaning supplies and personal protective equipment (PPE), like N95 masks, in multiple rooms. Common areas such as the kitchen and full bathroom have mostly remained ventilated, as an unintended consequence of climate change had allowed us to keep windows cracked open with minimal impact on our heating bill.

‘Comings and goings’ now have to be communicated ahead of time to avoid any unnecessary contact between our respective pairings. My partner and I have both worked from home for the duration of the pandemic – a privilege I must acknowledge, as so many have not been afforded that additional layer of safety.

Even the most gracious person would have to admit that the constant distraction of being in the same room with your partner, especially during business hours, has been nerve-wracking. We’re both used to our own spaces during the day, and the added stress of trying not to encumber the other person has triggered impatience and even some ‘snippiness’ at times.

Since our housemates were also vaccinated, their symptoms were quite mild - more like an annoying cold than anything else, they said. But some people who never reported serious symptoms upon infection still suffer from after-effects ranging from inconvenient to debilitating. Due to the apparent randomness of ‘Long COVID’ symptoms, however, we’d prefer to avoid the virus completely, if possible.

Of course, “if possible” doesn’t mean what it once did. In 2020, everybody was urged to, at minimum, drastically scaledown holiday gatherings and celebrations, and for the most part, we did. Less technologically-inclined family members got a crash course in video conferencing and our Zoom Christmases were, to us, a one-year stopgap that was good enough at the time.

2021 came and went in a strange blur. Looking back, I don’t think most of us appreciated how relatively safe we were in the spring and summer. Vaccines were hot off the presses and after what at the time seemed to be an unimaginable (but receding) winter of mass suffering and death, people were once again enjoying (mostly outdoor) dining, sports and concerts – the activities that, for many, make life worth living.

When we received the news that members of my partner’s extended family tested positive for COVID the week before Christmas, it was disappointing - and scary. While we were upset that, due to her father’s exposure, we would not be able to celebrate her mother’s birthday in person (she’s a Christmas baby) for the second consecutive year, our greatest concern was for her elderly grandparents, who became quite sick.

I felt extremely guilty that my partner’s side of the family was suffering from the effects of this awful, never-ending pandemic since I was still going to be able to be with my (vaccinated) family. This changed, however, when we were notified of our housemates’ positive tests on Christmas Eve.

I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that upon receiving both sets of news so close to one another, I didn’t react primarily with anger – especially at first. My partner and I had gone above and beyond for the past 21 months, even taking extra steps beyond CDC and local health officials’ recommendations to prevent not only contracting but spreading COVID. That’s what ‘15 Days to Flatten the Curve’ was supposed to be all about in March 2020 in the first place, right?

It’s been hard not to look around us for the past year especially and not feel like part of a shrinking minority. When President Biden was inaugurated last January, it seemed to guarantee we finally had a federal government with a national strategy to defeat COVID.

Biden took the opportunity to deliver a July 4 speech, ostensibly meant to declare our ‘independence’ from the virus. It seemed a bit premature, but there was still plenty of reason for optimism and hope. Unfortunately, I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that it feels like much of that hope has faded, replaced by frustration and anger.

It’s admittedly difficult not to stew in those negative feelings when you’re stuck in not just your house, but your bedroom, for the majority of the holidays for the second consecutive year due to no fault of your own.

In fairness, to simply place blame on Biden or Trump for this unprecedented situation we’re in now - with hospitals filling up at a pace not seen since before the vaccines were available but life seeming to, otherwise, go on as normal - is an inherently partisan and unproductive way of viewing things.

We learned in the early days of the pandemic that no matter what restrictions the government tries to implement, you can’t stop people from doing what they generally want – even if that results in spreading a deadly virus. It seems to me that something we haven’t learned – but might yet gain an understanding of the ‘hard way’ – is that eventually, people and systems break down due to sheer fatigue.

Our nation’s caretakers – teachers, doctors, nurses and myriad others – are exhausted. Even the most nimble at avoidance surely can’t escape that fact. Our country – and in fairness, the entire globe - faces the conundrum of having no choice but to keep going.

It’s increasingly clear that the federal government’s policy is now that of unchecked spread while hoping vaccines can mitigate the most severe consequences for those who’ve received them. The recent return to in-person classes after the holiday break was nearly immediately followed in some districts by a return to remote learning due to a lack of staff.

For many parents who still have to report to work, knowing that districts are making these difficult choices due to a combination of safety fears and sheer necessity doesn’t do much to lessen the hardships of suddenly having to find and pay for babysitters or daycares, which are also short-staffed.

Ultimately, I don’t have the answers to this situation. I don’t know of anybody who does. Even the most well-intentioned local and state officials and leaders have encountered multiple roadblocks attempting to mitigate the worst consequences of the disease. They must be feeling burnt-out, as well.

Ultimately, it seems 22 months of ever-changing guidelines, conflict, fear, severe illness and 800,000 plus deaths have been so much worse than we ever could have imagined. I don’t know if we’ll ever collectively come to terms with the fallout.

If the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks precipitated a crack in the veneer of ‘safety’ Americans have been conditioned to enjoy, COVID has caused a full collapse. And the wheels of capitalism apparently must continue to spin, no matter how many people fall ill or die as a consequence.

People will continue to lose whatever hope remains that one day, “like a miracle, it’ll just disappear” (Trump’s words) and/or “I will end this” (Biden’s). A theoretical ‘endemic’ phase of COVID, where most areas see spread reduced to that similar to the seasonal flu, still seems a far-off pipe-dream.

And yet, stadiums and arenas will continue to gather humans in numbers approaching six figures. Restaurants and bars and social clubs will still continue to operate as best as they can. Some school districts will continue to fight the demands of fervent, yet ill-informed, parents who demand ‘freedom’ for their children to contract COVID, while others will acquiesce to the vocal, and sometimes violent, minority.

Folks who need immediate care for reasons not related to COVID will continue to wait for hours upon end in emergency rooms, some dying of treatable conditions that just weren’t caught in time. Places like movie theaters, nursing homes and senior centers will continue to carry an inherent level of heightened risk, especially to the elderly and immunocompromised, including those who, for whatever reason, can’t get vaccinated – COVID’s truly forgotten population.

As for me? I think I’m just going to keep staying home.