I bet it sucks to be a caterpillar.

Welcome to my COVID-19 insomnia.  No, I don’t have it.  I haven’t tested positive. 

By the way, for a child of the 80’s like me, testing positive for a virus feels an awful lot like testing positive for HIV/AIDS—it feels like a death sentence of social out casting disguised as social distancing.  I’m 100% sure there are a bunch of 40-somethings running around with COVID-19 right now refusing to get tested because “testing positive” has was too much stigma attached to it.  The cases of COVID-19 drop off sharply for those 50 and younger because we’ve been traumatized by getting confirmed medical diagnoses and we don’t trust the system enough to seek treatment anyways.  So why get tested?  I’ll pass on medically based exile, thank you.

By the way, there is zero scientific fact behind any of those statements—it’s 4 AM.  I’m rambling.

But yeah, caterpillars.  Think about it.  Not a great lifestyle.  They probably are developing some sort of self-awareness at that stage in their life: they know their body is stupid and awkward looking.

By the way, awkward is an awkward word—in any font.  Now graceful, that is a graceful word in every font.  Is there a term for this visual onomatopoeia?

As far as caterpillars go, though, they can’t do anything about their awkwardness.  They can’t go to little caterpillar gyms, or get caterpillar plastic surgery, or even use filters for their caterpillar Instagram selfies.  They completely have to “wait it out.”  Which is even more stupid because existentially they know they are going to turn a corner some day and become a butterfly, but who believes that actually happens?  That has to feel like the same unfulfilled promise of the kid who fails every math and science class they ever took yet still swears they are going to be a doctor someday.  Could it happen?  I guess.  Is it likely?  Nope.  Same with the caterpillar. 

But no really, ALL caterpillars become beautiful butterflies. *deep eyeroll* How about moths?  Still Lepidoptera.  Still caterpillar.  NOT beautiful butterflies.  Or sawflies?  Which are wasps, not flies, and their larvae look so much like caterpillars that often experts even mistake them for butterfly larvae despite the fact that they aren’t even Lepidoptera material.

A caterpillar can literally do nothing about its stupid awkward self but swear it is going to be a model one day and eat itself into a calorie-induced coma.  Please tell me we’ve all been there…

And the indignity of that calorie-induced coma is where is gets really weird.  At least before the coma, the caterpillar could interact with other caterpillars; now it’s just stuck in this coma chrysalis phase.  Physically stuck.  All the young bucks, of course, are thinking, “Yeah, it said it was a butterfly, but now just look at it.  Hanging there.  Doing nothing with its life. OG in the club. Rando Townie.”

Did you know there are 750 species of butterflies in the United States but 11,000 species of moths?  So, chances are, that chrysalis hanging there—defenseless and silent, while the Lepidoptera public throws shade—was in fact gassed up about that whole butterfly thing and is going to emerge as a moth afterall.  A few moths get lucky and do this semi-butterfly, Queen of the Night, Luna moth thing.  But let’s be honest, silk moths are the Drag Queens of the Lepidoptera world.  And don’t forget, underneath all that make-up, a silk moth is still a moth.

Caterpillars have it SO easy.

EGG, CATERPILLAR, CHRYSALIS, MOTH/BUTTERFLY.

Even in not knowing where they are going, they know the route.  And the route doesn’t change.  It can’t change.  No one can throw in an extra chrysalis phase with a career change and an extra forty pounds (or sixty, but who’s counting).

Unless you’re a person.

And then, as a chrysalis, you just open up to find you’re a different caterpillar.  Or sometimes, as a butterfly, you get hold of the wrong kind of flower and wind up eating yourself back into a calorie-induced coma.  But this time your chrysalis demotes you to a moth because you screwed up being a butterfly.

Maybe you get lucky.  And one of those times, as a defenseless, silent chrysalis, the Homosapien public sends positive vibes your way.  When you open up from that chrysalis this time, you finally figure out that:

A moth is just a nighttime butterfly.

A butterfly is just a daytime moth.

And you’re a skipper—with a love for the sun, butterfly-like colors, moth-like fur, and a quick graceful flight all your own.

Cheers to all those skippers out there!  One day soon, I hope you find yourself, I hope I find myself, and I hope we can all respect each other’s realities.

By the way, all of this random metaphorical thinking was brought to you by my own self-loathing and self-doubt. A few weeks ago, I was asked to do an interview for Polk Government TV’s Out and About Art hosted by Yasmeen Ali. She did a great job interviewing me and, besides my own self-inflicted bodyshaming, I love the video. Don’t rush to validate me. I’m working on being a skipper. That was the whole metaphor thing. ;) And here’s the video. I hope you like it.