AmeriCorps 2020: The end is nigh

This post continues the story of my AmeriCorps term in Boulder, Colorado in 2020. It details events that took place on August 17 and 18, 2020 , and the rest of this series can be found here.

August 17, 2020

As I indicated in my last post, August 13, 2020 was rough. I spent the whole morning sitting in wildfire smoke, and then felt terrible for the rest of the day. August 17 was better, except that one of our crew leaders, Bonesteel, said that we might have as little as two weeks left on the Fern-Mesa reroute project.

This was depressing news for me, because I was genuinely enjoying myself. Spending time every day in rough terrain, sheltered by conifer trees, and building a trail by hand was fun for me. More importantly, I loved the people I was working with.

Jo and Kait were close to my age, and were the best “bosses” that I could’ve asked for. They both had big, theatrical personalities, and turned what should’ve been miserable work into a game. The thought of leaving these two people, whom I cherished deeply, was almost too much for me.

August 18, 2020

Hearing that we would complete the Fern-Mesa reroute soon might explain my foul mood on the next day, August 18. I felt sad every time I saw Jo, because I knew that I’d be leaving this friend whom I’d only just met. Perhaps that’s why, on this day, the repetitiveness of my AmeriCorps term weighed heavily on me.

As I indicated above, I normally found the work I was doing to be fun. However, on the 18th I felt exhausted. I spent a lot of time ruminating about how I did the same thing every day, with almost no breaks in routine. I missed the comforts of my more urban, pre-Covid life, when I had a car and the ability to go wherever I pleased.

Again, I attributed these self-pitying thoughts to the fact that I was sad to leave my friends. But when I look back through my notes, I realize there might’ve been an additional cause.

The smoke from Colorado’s many wildfires blew up again on August 18. It was especially bad in the afternoon, when we returned to the Joder house. This house was on a hill, with open windows being our only form of ventilation, so that there was little escape from the wildfire smoke. Perhaps this explains an eerily repetitive bunch of symptoms that I experienced on the following day, August 19, 2020.