A slow blink like a countdown on a lazy, hazy, Florida afternoon. Biting nails and peeling polish as the news ticker makes its slow crawl across the screen displaying a rising death toll and a failing economy.
It’s is a very strange movie that we have stumbled onto the set of, a little bit post apocalyptic with a dash of horror and comedy thrown in for good measure. If asked, the MPAA would begrudgingly hand this film an R rating for language, violence, and partial nudity (although it would do better in the theaters as PG-13). The only things that you can find in the grocery stores right now are paranoia and gluten free waffle mix.
The Florida Keys has declared its independence from the mainland and to travel in you must have papers documenting your right to be here. The locals do not fair well under pressure, in the beginning cars were lining the road forming a rag tag barricade, signs held in shaky hands reading “Welcome to the keys, now go home”. They have drawn a line in the proverbial sand which is mile marker 107 on US HWY 1.
There are two types of people in the world right now; the ones heeding the calls of the doctors and scientists urging for social distancing and immediate action, and the ones taking all of their advice from the guy who sold bad weed in high school and can “see through the government conspiracy”. Some people are under the impression that the rain only falls on them and fail to see the ways in which this pandemic is affecting the entire world.
We have a strange sort of survivors guilt as 80% of the staff where we work have been laid off. Jesse and I are considered essential workers which I define as those doing the jobs which no one else wants to do. Our days are spent with our heads down avoiding the weighted looks of the seasonal instructors who still haunt the halls. The air is heavy with unspoken questions and an intoxicating mixture of pollen and humidity.
We have been working and living at MarineLab in the Florida Keys for almost five very strange and fulfilling months. I have never lived or worked at a place like this and have loved every second of it. Hurricane season is on our heals though and I’m anxious to see how we fare during this global crisis. Stay strong, stay healthy, live long and prosper 🖖.
Brittany and Jesse Are Running Away 