Isolation Blues

It's Friday, April 3, 2020, a little after 3 in the afternoon.

We went to the grocery store on Tuesday, and stocked up pretty good. It was less stressful then the last time (about 10 days earlier), but still, it's overwhelming trying to remember everything you might need. As it was, I realized I forgot a few things. Coffee filters (not out yet), butter. Wanted to buy some bread flour and instant yeast so I could try making sourdough bread - guess I wasn't the only one because the shelves were bare. At least the other shoppers were much more aware this time. Less mingling, more distance between us.

It's so very strange, this new normal. Nobody likes it.

I get a few things done everyday, but I also spend too much time doing nothing. Little spurts of creativity that quickly fizzle out in despair. A phone call here, a text there, instant messenger. When it all gets to be too much, I put on headphones and go through You Tube listening to music.

I managed to file my taxes on Monday. That was a biggie. I've set up online banking, a Pay Pal account. Don still has some work, so that's a relief. I transferred money from my savings account into checking so I can write out the big bill of the month - the mortgage. If things are still looking dire next month (which they probably will), I'll muster up the gumption to call them and see if they can offer me a little respite or something. I don't know.

I miss my little day job a lot. My coworkers and the customers and the work itself. The routine. I miss my home slices in the band, making people happy with our performances.

Spooky is getting closer to letting me know she's ready. Not quite. Almost. She peed on the bed today- her body is failing. Poor baby kitty. I'm pretty sure when the time is right, I can call ahead. I read somewhere where the vet came out to the car and did the deed. At least now the ground is soft enough for us to dig her a little grave. We've got two of the others out back, Bonezee and Bango. Bunkey had to go into the mass incinerator because he had to go in the dead of winter. I don't want her to suffer any longer than necessary. She's been my favorite cat ever, despite being a problem child. She's wicked special.

I call Dad nearly everyday around 4:45. I forget yesterday though. He usually has the energy to talk for 5 or 10 minutes. He seems to be handling all of this fairly well, considering. He's developed a late in life interest in golf. I suppose it's relaxing to watch. The apartment he's staying in at the assisted living facility has a really big flat screen television. He only watches the PBS news hour every evening at 7. He eats at 5. The residents are still all eating in the dining room, but they are not allowed to share tables anymore. They all get their temperature taken every morning. So far the virus has not entered the facility. I'm so grateful for how seriously the staff is taking this.

Fucking nightmare. Total insanity. And the worst possible person ever in the entire world to be "in charge."

Stay safe everyone. I love you and wish you the best of health.