As many of you probably know*, while Europe has halted the AstraZeneca vaccine due to certain fears about creating blood clots after inoculation, the UK is facing a shortage of doses due to outages from its Indian supplier. Which means that the vaccination of the age group yours truly belongs to (i.e. 40-somethings, i.e “Generation Outcast,” i.e. Generation X) most likely will be postponed for more than a month, until April, and we are talking about the first jab only, of course.

Oh man. Where do I even begin. Somehow I still convince myself that maybe, just maybe all issues with vaccines will be resolved ASAP, and I finally will proceed to successful microchipping/acquiring a strong 5G signal, like L. and many of my older friends and family members did. That would indeed be lovely.

But since I am an advanced misanthrope, I don’t think so, for sure: hell, of course, I don’t. My (still) somewhat vivid imagination paints grim pictures of long queues to the vaccination centres here and there, packed with my peers, and let me tell you: it doesn’t look cute at all.

And I am not alone in my mixed feelings of annoyance and fatigue: a fellow 40-something wrote an article on the matter in the Daily Telegraph, where she is rambling about those pesky elderly who won the shitty vaccine bingo, whereas we losers must wait again and again. “After all our sacrifices for them, is that fair?” the gal asks, and I hear her sobbing in rage and frustration. And then, she begins describing her sacrifices, and my heart starts aching for her (just ever so slightly). No cake for you, she says, and I nodded––yep, nope. And then, she continues:

“Don’t get me wrong, I would do it again if that’s what it took – but I can’t pretend it won’t be a little irritating to watch the over-50s brandishing their passports as they Uber off to the airport this summer, while my teens, whose social and educational development has been so grievously affected, growl at me as I try to tell them how much fun we’ll have in Devon and going for rainy coastal walks.”

My tears dried out immediately. Wait a minute. What? Don’t you think that to be that envious of someone else, especially mentioning your kids (which can also mean that you don’t bother to hide your ubiquitous jealousy from them), is a bit douchey? Nah? Well, I do then. Oh, and I’d love to go to bloody Devon and make any number of coastal walks, because it’s divine.

Don’t get me wrong: I find this whole thing with the paused rollout utterly ridiculous and exasperating, but this phrase about (presumably) crappy coastal ramblings, when someone else is sitting with their Margaritas near the swimming pool (or whatever picture you want to draw) gets on my nerves. If I can choose to stay in a boat with someone else of my age group, they’d better be less whiny and unpleasant. It’s enough to have it all in myself, LOL.

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* Mostly, my non-UK based friends