Random Thoughts from the Plague Times

 

Puzzles are distracting. When I'm trying to match up a piece to the others in a jigsaw, I can momentarily forget that going outside the apartment is a big deal involving taking a small risk, gearing up with a mask, and making sure we have everything because multiple trips make it harder (getting an elevator alone, etc.). Same with the crossword puzzles and other variety puzzles I do (Ken-Ken, etc.). So while I'm not bored and have plenty to do there is something about puzzles in that they allow me to drift away from the current mess. (Above picture is my husband placing the last piece of a jigsaw we did.)

Other random thoughts from this time:

• While lots of people lost their jobs I think in Austin the people in construction and landscaping are pretty well-employed. Of course, there has been a spread of COVID-19 in these workforces so that's not good.
• I figure the companies that make take-out containers and paper sacks and all the accouterments of curbside dining and shopping are doing well.
• Bars "operating as restaurants" by adding a food truck is a joke. A Texas joke.
• It is amazing to get a call from someone inviting us to brunch. At a restaurant. Upon hearing that we are not doing that we hear that the person's spouse already had it (caught shopping) and so did the caller (from a grandkid). And besides "everything down here is wide open." (In their small town outside Austin.) 
• I no longer expect much from vaccination. My hope is that people who get it won't get sick or not as sick even though they may be able to pass it around. I hope to get one so that I won't get as sick when I get it. I'll keep wearing my mask so that I don't pass it along and avoiding contact and such after I get one, but I might eat in a restaurant or shop inside more if I thought I wouldn't get as sick. (I have made one and only one inside shop since mid-March. I hope that people I have been avoiding so that I don't give it to them might get a vaccine and reduce the risk of killing them.)
• I now realize that this situation will continue in pretty much the same way for us until it has been one year! Maybe longer. Shocking.
• I don't know if I will ever feel the same interacting with others. I'm an introvert anyway. Don't encourage me.
• I am well and truly never going to get my drawers, closets, storage cage, and computer files sorted and organized before I die. Having nine months to do it and making this much progress? Right.
• Our neighborhood walks (most within five miles of here, the furthest twelve miles) have proved to me that there is an infinity in this small space. I'd love to be traveling the world but there are lots of things to see. So close. And yet, sigh.
• My writing here on this blog, posts on Facebook, and scribbles in notebooks in longhand are not really writing or journaling. They are really just ways to keep my feet planted in the world so that I don't float away in this weird time. On paper, I make myself write the date out with the day of the week in parentheses and then Day XXX. Today: December 23, 2020 (Wednesday) Day 284. (Sometimes it's all I can write. But usually, I write what we ate, where we went, what errands we ran, and what we watched on TV.) Yes, 284 days in this isolation mode.
• We watch so many movies and series on TV that occasionally I will not remember what we watched the night before. Or I will remember snippets from a series and can't remember where it was set or what the name of it was or which streaming service or cable channel it was on. We have been working our way through "NYPD Blue," however. So when we are at a loss as to what to watch we simply revert to that.
• In the Before Times, I would get things done and get them out of the way so that I could travel or go out and about. Now I often think "oh, I can do that tomorrow just as well."
• For a while, I watched the clock and when 5 p.m. rolled around I would mix a drink (or get the hubby to do it). It was kind of symbolic. Now, I'm not so interested in it. (Not that I have quit drinking. Far from it. As the recycling bin will attest.)
• When I express doubt that we will ever again travel freely, dine out with abandon or go out to hear live performances, I really don't need to have people say "oh, yes you will." But, of course, someone always does.