I can’t have actually lost my mind, right? I mean it’s still here with me, if not in my head or somewhere else in my body, it’s surely around the apartment somewhere. I mean this apartment is pretty small…really small in fact…smaller every day. It must be here.
I’ve been fine…since March 13, 2020, NM’s official declaration of the pandemic I think… I’ve been fine. Busy. Generally optimistic. Exercising some. Eating reasonably healthfully. Communicating. Watering the plants. Showering now and then. Reading books. Watching a few 24-season series. It’s been okay.
Now. It. Is. Not.
It is so very fortunate that alcohol makes me sick or I would be getting really drunk right this very minute. How about a pain pill and ‘sparkling probiotic drink’ instead? Poor substitute I say.
I mean really. Here we are. This giant rudderless country just wobbling along from day to day. No real direction. No voice of reason. (I should note that here in New Mexico we have a great governor who’s trying her damnedest but any governor’s voice can seem pretty small in a sea of lunacy.)
Doesn’t it feel like we’ll wake up and some semblance of what they (you know…parents, teachers, politicians) told us this country represented will still be there/here/somewhere?
So my 21-year-old granddaughter Sara has tested positive for the virus. She’s sick but not horribly so at this stage and we’re sure (pretty sure) she’ll be fine. Her parents went into smart mode immediately and are testing negative and since I’ve only been around my son once in the last two weeks and that was masked and outdoors I’m fine. It’s just that this virus is so sneaky with after effects and how it gets around that it’s like living with a member of the Trump cult…the evil can escape.