I’m Done Arguing About Covid (and Everything Else, Honestly)

There was a time—oh, believe me—when I would dive right in. Someone would start talking about Covid, masks, vaccines, “the science,” or whatever the latest headline said, and I’d feel that twitch in my brain. You know the one. The “here we go again” reflex. I’d be halfway through explaining stats or logic or how things didn’t quite add up before I even realized I’d fallen for it again.

But these days? Nah. I’m done.

Now, when someone says something ridiculous like “it’s all settled science” or “the government was just keeping us safe,” I just smile and say, “Oh right.” That’s it. No eye-roll (well, not an obvious one), no rant, no debate. Just two words. “Oh right.”

Because honestly, what’s the point anymore?

You Can’t Wake People Who Want to Sleep

I used to think if I just showed them the right article, the right chart, the right quote from the right person, they’d finally get it. That moment of clarity. That “wait a second…” pause where everything clicks. But funny enough, it never came. Not once.

It’s like trying to argue someone out of a dream. You can’t. They have to want to wake up.

And the truth is, most people don’t. Comfort is addictive. Believing what everyone else believes feels safe, and stepping outside that crowd feels… dangerous. (People get angry when you shake their little snow globe reality.)

The Mental Energy Tax

Arguing with people who are locked into their beliefs is exhausting. I’d get worked up, my heart would race, and afterward, I’d be left with that drained, slightly hopeless feeling—like yelling at a wall that smiles back at you.

These days, I’d rather save that energy for something that actually matters. My peace of mind, for starters. My sanity. Maybe even my dinner.

Because let’s be real: half the time, these arguments aren’t about facts at all—they’re about pride, identity, and fear.

Let Them Crack On

So yeah, I’ve retired from the debate club.
If people still believe every official narrative, if they still can’t see how upside-down everything’s gotten, that’s their journey. Their circus, their monkeys.

I’m just over here minding my own business, sipping my coffee, maybe shaking my head a little—but quietly.

And if someone starts in again with their pandemic gospel, I’ve got my perfect little phrase ready:

“Oh right.”

(Translation: “I’m not wasting my time on this again.”)

Because you can’t save people who don’t want saving. And honestly, why should you? They made their bed of masks and mandates. Let them nap in it.