Friday, March 27, 2020

Hi.

So, yeah. Hi. I'm not dead of coronovirus. I figured I should probably mention that.

You may have noticed -- or very well may not have, which is fine, because I hardly expect to the front-of-mind for the entire universe -- that at the start of the year I finally did follow through on what I've been saying I might do for ages, and stopped updating this blog regularly. I figured I'd probably still check in every few months or so with a little update on what's going on with me, or some random thoughts or something.

I figured that whenever I finally got around to doing that, the worst thing I'd have to talk about was the fact that we lost my grandmother recently. Which was incredibly sad -- she was beloved by a lot of people -- but hardly unexpected, given her age.

A global pandemic, however, was very much unexpected. Not that it should have been, maybe. God knows I've read enough books talking about how inevitable something like this happening probably was. Still. The whole thing feels surreal. Fictional. That's a feeling I've been having off and on for the last couple of decades, to be honest, but it almost seems to be a permanent state now, and I have no idea what to do with that. I used to feel excited about the idea of living in the future. Now I am clearly doing so, and I have no idea how to get to grips with it.

For the moment at least, as far as I know, I and my nearest and dearest are doing OK. Well, not sick, anyway. And I'm still working. First my organization sent as many people home to work remotely as possible and cut the staff in the building down to a skeleton crew. And I kept going to work, because I'm one of the bones in the skeleton. Then our governor issued a stay-at-home order and directed non-essential businesses to close. But my bosses declared us essential. Based on... I don't know what. I don't think I'm essential. But I'm still going in to work. I don't feel good about it. I feel like I may be subverting a public health order aimed at saving lives for no truly justifiable reason, something that seems to me distressingly emblematic of all the ways in which our society is fucked up right now. But I don't make these decisions, I guess, so I continue to do what I'm told, and I try to keep my moral qualms and my existential crises to myself. Mostly.

They're paying me time and a half, though. I'm gonna donate some of the extra to food banks, because there are surely a lot of people earning zero right now and wondering how the hell they're going to eat.

I do find the whole situation richly ironic, I have to admit. I know so many people who are going stir-crazy, desperate to be allowed to leave their houses, to be social again. Me, I long for my home every second I'm away from it. It's the only place I feel safe and comfortable right now, if I'm entirely honest. And my personality is such that I genuinely could just stay here and never see another human being for a year or so and be perfectly fine, psychologically. Or at least as fine as I am normally. Ha, ha.

Anyway. That's the state of things for me right now. This is me, checking in, reaching out. Whatever.

Try to stay safe out there. Try to stay sane. Good luck to all of us.

8 comments:

  1. You stay safe too.

    So far, I'm fine. As a retired introvert, this hasn't made an enormous difference to my way of life, though I do miss being able to go out somewhere for lunch, which I used to do a couple of times a week.

    It's just been announced that our PM has caught the virus, which I think is taking solidarity with those who are suffering from it a little too far. (Hopefully that joke isn't in too bad taste in the current circumstances.)

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    1. Glad to hear you're OK.

      I would miss going out to my favorite diner a couple of times a week, but as it turns out I wouldn't be able to do that, anyway, because the other major thing that's happened to me recently is that just before all this got serious here, I had a doctor tell me I need to go on a low-sodium diet and that I should eat less meat while I'm at it. And since said diner's menus seems to consist primarily of salted meat, well...

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  2. I am glad to hear you are ok. I was thinking I had not seen a monthly update in a bit and was checking to see if everything was ok and delighted to see an update. At the moment we are making it day by day here in Spaceship Smoogen. I am hoping to take the rocket to the corner asteroid store later today to see if they have eggs or toilet paper finally. [Yes I have decided that I am living in the closest I can get to "The Rolling Stones"]

    I am hoping you do ok in the coming months

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    1. Glad you're OK, and, aww, it's nice to be thought of.

      After making this post, I ventured out to the store, myself. It's still a weird and depressing experience, but they had a lot more stuff on the shelves than when I was there last week, at least.

      Hope you were able to find TP, or at least some eggs. And I think deciding you're living in The Rolling Stones is way, way better than worrying about living in, I dunno, The Stand. :)

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    2. I'm glad you and yours are well. These are weird times we're living in, no doubt. :)

      Condolences, though, on the loss of your grandmother. My mother's sister passed away a few months ago, and it's strange almost being glad that it happened before all of this. We wouldn't have been able to visit her at the nursing home, and would have needed to be very careful about how/if we had a funeral.

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    3. I know exactly what you mean. I've been thinking the same about my own grandmother, that I'm glad she didn't have to live through this, that it was really a good thing it happened when it did. And it that does feel very, very weird to be glad about that.

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  3. Well, I noticed you hadn't blogged in a while. (And I'm still crying.) Plus -- and your other readers surely will back me up on this -- I think you're essential.

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