Monday, May 25, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 64: May 25, 2020

March 7 was a predictably chilly day here in Southern Indiana, typical for late winter. Probably it was a day where it wasn't quite cloudy, but not quite sunny, either. I honestly don't remember. What I do remember about that day is that I spent the afternoon in the company of two of my oldest friends, Michael and Anna, and their sons, Wes and Miles. I held three-month-old Miles for a little bit, and hugged Michael and Anna and Wes, and we didn't do much of anything--just sat about, close to one another, making lazy conversation, and playing with our phones. Eventually, we ate pizza, and I bade them good-bye. I ran to Target for a quick shop, and returned home for the evening.

Later that night, I jotted down in my diary, Coronavirus fears still running high. Target was sold out of a lot of stuff.


I didn't know it that day, but Michael and Anna were the last people I saw, socially, before the world ended. And so I thought it rather fitting that they would be the first people I would see, socially, when I emerged back into this new world. Which is what I did today. Today was 40th birthday, and I had originally intended to spend this day with an intimate group of family and friends in Cincinnati, and goddammit, I didn't want this day to be a total wash. So when Michael and Anna reached out to see if they'd be able to do a drive-by today, I thought, Fuck it. To my surprise and relief, the spike that so many models had predicted has not yet happened. And so, we concocted a plan for a picnic. Just me and Michael and Anna and Miles, outside, on picnic blankets in the shade at Bryan Park, giving each other plenty of space. And it was absolutely a joy to be with them--these dear friends who have been family to me for a very long time. We didn't get near each other, we didn't hug, I wasn't able to hold Miles--almost three months older, and bigger, and changed, so changed! This is the "new normal"--the necessary normal, the normal that I am trying to make work for me.



Which makes me think--it's now time to bring this volume of The Plague Diaries to its close, on the day when I "broke quarantine" and began to resume life in its altered form. Next week, I start back to work in the library building. And while we'll be following all sorts of protocols of social distancing and PPE, the fact remains that my risk vector will go up significantly once this part of my life starts back up. It doesn't mean that I'll be going to get-togethers, or demanding pedicures, or hopping on planes to see my family and friends. But it does mean that I will have to take cautious, calculated risks in order to start rejoining the world in its altered form. Or, as I laughingly told Middle Sister earlier today, "time to resume my usual, voluntary social isolation."

If there's another lockdown/quarantine, I'll probably start "Volume 2" of the Plague Diaries, but I will be very surprised if this will happen. Because, of course, #'murica. But regardless, I will definitely try to post more regularly here, whether or not it's about Life During COVID-19. Posting on here regularly--it's been one of the only 2020 goals I've really been able to follow through on. And really, it's been something I've been meaning to be better at for years, and now, finally, it's happened.

All it took was a pandemic.



Thursday, May 21, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 63: May 21, 2020

Question: Why is divorce so expensive?
Answer: Because it's worth it!

The other day, in the middle of the day of meetings that never ended, a few of us got rather punchy and started doing a show-and-tell of "What's on my desk." I'd like to think I won the contest when I got my boss to dissolve into giggles when I showed them all the picture that my sister gave me right after I filed for divorce from my husband:



And then, because the universe has a sense of humor (and when you're middle class white chick, of course you think the universe is paying attention to you) my ex-husband called me later that evening.

Now, the artist formerly known as Mr. Melissa and I have a fairly amiable, amicable relationship. I've never been particularly talented at holding grudges against my exes, and once my ex-husband and I managed to disentagle from each other, we were able to re-establish a cordial, sometimes even warm, camraderie, perhaps like two seasoned soldiers who have weathered untold battles and trials. Except we were the battles and trials for each other.

Anyway, turns out that he needed a copy of our divorce paperwork. I'm always happy to take a stroll down memory lane and recall one of the best decisions I ever made, so I dug out the packet (still haven't gotten the decree framed, but perhaps it's now time?) and as I was flipping through, I noticed that the paperwork also recorded our wedding date: May 21, 2020.

Well, well, well. Happy not-anniversary. It would have been our 10 year anniversary today! Thank god it's not.

******************************************************************************

In plague-related news, I've been working flat-out all week, and I would say that I'm very grateful for the three-day weekend coming up...except I'm pretty sure that I'll need to put in a full day's work on Sunday. And I think that's pretty okay, honestly. It's been a long time since I was able to feel so stressed and frazzled and challenged and accomplished. We will be working from home for a goodly amount of time for a little while longer, and my co-managers and I have been enthusiastically brainstorming projects to keep ourselves and our folks in work during these "at home" weeks. Library-wide, we've been forced to think outside the box, be flexible and creative and just lean into new and different ways of doing things--virtual programming and outreach, information sharing, reference services, etc. And honestly, while I don't know if we will be able to sustain all of it once we totally return, 100%, to in-building work, I hope that we can continue some of this. The plague has been "the great disruptor" and has literally caused death and financial ruin to thousands of people, but god, it would be nice if we could get something good out of it.

Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts:
Total Number of Cases: 30,409 (up from the 28,705 mentioned on 5/19)
1,791 people have died.

Nationwide, 93,061 people have died.

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 62: May 19, 2020

Consider this my change of address: I am moving into my work Gmail inbox. I live there now. And Zoom is my vacation home, and Google Hangouts is the equivalent of the neighborhood bar, except without any booze or hot young men to make time with. Seriously, I spent all day, except for mealtimes, hunched over my computer, from 9 AM until 8 PM. Who knew that the apocalypse would require so much screen time? And I've got several more days ahead of this. I mean, believe me, I prefer this dawn-to-dusk librarianing for more than 18 hours of moping, brooding, brief naps, and crying, but damn. It's a lot right now.

Nonetheless, I was able to complete the Fourth Day of Birthday--which was giving myself the gift of scheduling my diagnostic mammogram. I had my first one last year, when my doctor thought that there Might Be Something Wrong, and now that I'm officially middle-aged, I need to have one every year. And I definitely see any effort to avoid premature death to be a worthy birthday gift to myself! So later this summer, I get the joy of having a boobsmash.

The only other thing of note--and it barely counts as something of note--was that I managed to snatch some time between meetings to toss together a very basic sheetpan meal--sausage and potatoes and onions.


I know it's not pretty. But I'm actually rather proud of this--I've never been a particularly remarkable cook, and definitely not inventive or imaginative. I don't deviate from a recipe, usually, and the concept of "whipping something up" just seems beyond my ken. But today, I noticed that I had a package of sausages that I had to use or lose, and pondered what other supplies I had at hand, and fuck me if I didn't just throw this together. 

Verdict: Sausages were greasy and yummy (neither should surprise anyone), taters needed to be cooked a little longer, and next time, something green wouldn't go amiss. But it was filling and not wasteful, so, win! Now if only we can make it, like, 15 calories...

Tomorrow's another day cram-jammed with meetings, plus an evening at The Prof's house, and my brain is possibly oozing out of my earholes right now, so this is where I leave you. 

Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts:
Total Number of Cases: 28,705 (up from yesterday's 28,255)
1,678 people have died.

Nationwide, 90,340 people have died. We're still under the 100K mark...hurray?

Monday, May 18, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 61: May 18, 2020

We're past the mid-point in May, folks. People are starting to emerge from their homes and resume their lives. I'm still as hunkered down now as I was in late March and all of April, but one way or the other, this will end for me at the end of the month. June 1, I will go to my library for the first shift I've worked there in almost three months. At that point, maybe I'll be willing to spend time with friends. Outside. Six feet away from them. With masks. Bright side: at least the masks will give us some sun protection?

Sunday was my second day of birthday; to celebrate, I treated myself to a Get Your Shit Together (Gyst) Day, which basically translates into a day of gentle, but not ambitious, productivity. Dishes were washed, laundry was folded, cats were cuddled, storms were watched from my balcony.

Today, Monday, was the third day of birthday; in celebration, I made a donation to Planned Parenthood. And then realized I accidentally opted to make a monthly donation, which I totally can't commit to, so I'll probably have to spend an annoying amount of time trying to undo that clusterfuck. The only other thing of note that occurred today was that I had the best power nap ever. 

Exciting times here at The Haggery, folks, let me tell ya.

Within the last few days, I've learned that two of my closest friends in Bloomington are moving away--one to Ohio, the other to Alabama. These are two of the first friends I made when I moved home in 2016. Hopefully I will have a chance to see them before they leave/ When talking to Middle Sister today, and telling her about this, she asked me, in classic LCSW fashion, "What do you feel about this?"

I paused before answering. "Hell if I know," I finally responded. "I've not seen them in months. And at this point, it's not like I can even go out and make new friends." I suppose I'm numb. I would like to process this, but I think it's beyond me at this particular moment. It's strange; I feel that my life and existence have been in some sort of suspension these last couple of months. And I assumed that others' have been, too. But I have this dreadful feeling that when I emerge from isolation, I will be coming back into a world in which everything, and everyone, is different. Possibly gone.

It's a REALLY slow news day around here, clearly.

Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts: 
Total Number of Cases: 28,255 (up from Saturday's 27,280)
1,621 people have died.

Nationwide, 89,407 people have died.

Saturday, May 16, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 60: May 16, 2020

Driving over to The Prof's yesterday, I noticed that the delicate green of spring foliage is yielding to the rude, thrusting, vibrant, deeper green of summer. While we hunkered down and hid in our homes, an entire season passed us by. We're halfway through May, and then, soon, we will be halfway through this cursed year. One way or another, whether we are living or waiting, time marches on.

In another way, things are shifting and changing: I spent a large portion of this past week hard at work, helping plan our phased re-opening. Countless hours I've spent in my home workspace, making calls, attending meetings, writing notes, composing and abandoning schedules, firing off emails, shooing my cats off the table, and wondering how far we will get in this process. Will there be some resurgence of the plague that sends us all scuttling back into our homes? Or will we just...power through, and ignore any potential risks, and give a half-hearted nod to precautions, but somehow just resign ourselves that COVID-19 is our unwelcome bosom companion for the foreseeable future?

I went to Target the other day, for my one weekly allowed supply run. Of the people I saw there, only about half of them were wearing masks. And as for people ignoring social distancing protocols...well, let's just say that if there was a Venn diagram of social-distancing and mask-eschewing people, that diagram would be one fucking circle. I try not to be one to be snooty and dismissive of "the masses" or think that the majority of people are stupid (they may very well be, but I believe we all have been one of those stupid people at some--or many--points) but jesus h. christ, folks. Let's at least try, okay? The country is re-opening so we can have our Chili's and haircuts and mall excursions, but it doesn't mean we have to be utter, insouciant chumps about things.

How else have I spent the last several days? Eating, like always, of course. I'm really, really, really proud of a vegetarian (and vegan? although unintentionally) curry recipe that I made earlier in the week:



The third Friday in May (yesterday) was National Pizza Party Day, so I ordered a pie from Wheel Pizza, my favorite local pizza joint.


I don't know what it is about this particular place... Mother Bears and Avers are both great local pizza restaurants, too, but Wheel Pizza is the closest I've come to a New York Style pizza.

But perhaps the highlight of my week was this evening, The First Day of Birthday. (Yes, you read that right: if I cannot have the 40th Birthday Blowout, by god, I'll do my best to celebrate it with flair in quarantine.) So anyway, this evening I celebrated The First Day of Birthday enjoying a glass of champagne, chomping down on a charcuterie board, and binge watching The Great, this obnoxiously delightful, absurd costume drama about Catherine The Great. It's a production from Hulu, and you can tell everyone seems to take great joy in rendering everything as inaccurate as possible. It's the ridiculous you didn't know you needed in your life...

Oh wait, sorry, I guess you'd rather see a picture of the charcuterie board, huh?


This layout of delicacies came from a local business called Blooming Boards, courtesy of--who else?--my sisters, who, had COVID-19 never fucked up our lives, would now be packing their bags to come see me. Anyway, of course the food was amazing, but there is still so much of it sitting in my fridge. It's the kind of thing meant to be enjoyed with others. Sisters, specifically. 

So, anyway. As time marches on, and 'Murica starts to re-open and resume life, I'm going to get more and more wrapped up in my work, which usually sucks up the majority of my time and attention and energy. I'd like to say that I'll continue blogging on the regular, but if this last week is any indication, that might not be a likelihood. I've often struggled with blogging--coming up with subject content, which is hard because my daily life is pretty humdrum; pondering, why am I doing it, anyway? Is anyone reading? And if I think it's possible that people are reading, am I writing this in some sort of performative, and therefore not entirely authentic manner? And why the hell should it matter anyway? It's my life, humdrum though it is, and I like to document it.

At least I've gotten into something of a habit of blogging more than before. All it took was a pandemic.

Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts
Total Number of Cases: 27,280 (up from the 25,473 noted on my post on 13 May)
1,596 people have died.

Nationwide, 87,315 people have died.

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 59: May 13, 2020





Happy Hump Day! (I think. It's Wednesday, right?)

That's going to be one of the hardest things about coming out of isolation--we will have to actually remember what day it is, and have to adhere to more strict, unforgiving schedules. Boss, what do you mean, I'm not allowed to leave the Info Desk to take a 45 minute nap? What do you mean, I can no longer work from home at 11 PM?

It'll be a minute before we get there. But at least in my life, in my job, we're starting to take steps towards that. The last several days, many of us have been hard at work on a plan to safely restore library services to our community. It's a wrench, quite honestly, because we need our libraries...but it's still scary out there.

As part of the planning and preparing, today I spent about six hours on the phones with almost a score of my colleagues, in some cases hearing their voices for the first time in three months, talking about timelines and next steps. Tentatively, it looks like I'll be returning to my physical library on a limited basis in early June. Dang. I'm equally excited and apprehensive: will our customers respect our safety and their own? In the news, recently, there has been more than one instance of people inflicting physical violence upon those who would have them respect a business's protocols. More than once I've wondered, is this how the next American civil war starts? Because of some asshats that get their balls in an uproar about wearing masks and attempting to keep their fellow humans safe? Freedom! Second Amendment! 'Murica!

Something about those masks, though, that I am really not looking forward to: wearing them in the summertime. In fact, I'm already dreading it. At least I'll be able to hide my horrible, sweaty grimaces behind a possibly ineffective but definitely pretty scrap of paisley-patterned fabric. Bright side, I guess?

Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts: 
Total Number of Cases: 25,473 (up from Monday's 24,627)
1,482 people have died.

Nationwide, 82,246 people have died.
(Sources: Indiana State Department of Health and the Center for Disease Control)

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 58: May 12, 2020

Today is one of my favoritest days of the year--my Eldest Sister's birthday! Rather than bemoan yet another special occasion spent in exile, away from dear ones, instead, in her honor I thought I'd do a bit of a special thing here on the Plague Diaries--have Eldest do a guest post! So instead of hearing my weary, mopey voice blathering on about the end of the world, or cats, or how the world will end in a plague of cats, you get the privilege--yes, privilege, I say--of "meeting" Eldest Sister, one of the most beguiling and original voices to echo across the Internet.


Eldest Sister, otherwise known as Sarah E, or Mlle Ghoul, is quite the gadabout online: she's infamous as the creative genius behind Heal Yourself, Skeletor (have you noticed the proliferation of Skeltor memes, tshirts, and other sundries in recent years? You've got my sister to thank for that) but more importantly, she is prolific on her own blog and website, Instagram, YouTube, and Twitter, to say nothing of her frequent contributions to Haute Macabre. She's soon to be a published author (and not that self-published stuff, either!) In other words: Bitch gets around. 

But most importantly, she is the absolute goddess of working from home. She's done so quite successfully for close to a decade. and can certainly tell us a thing or two about a thing or two. Which is to say: here's how she manages to work from home--and how Apocalypse 2020 barely made a stir her world!






"I have been working from home for my current employer since October of 2012, and though now I have my act relatively together in terms of working alone, remotely, it was definitely a transition. As someone who would rather be left alone while I am working, and who doesn’t give a hoot about hanging with coworkers, it wasn’t the absence of human interaction that gave me issues, so I am afraid I can’t speak to that. Wooooo, no more employee Christmas parties! No more awkward small talk! THANK GOD.


What actually worried me was more along the lines of producing results without my boss, in-person, breathing down my neck. Or being able to prioritize and manage projects without being distracted by “home stuff”; being able to communicate effectively and efficiently (I worked in a small office and we yelled through the walls at each other when we needed something); setting boundaries and not overworking. I spend a lot --A LOT-- of time on the phone with my boss. Sometimes I feel that he must think that if he’s not bending my ear, then I must not have anything to do, and I’m just, you know, sitting around waiting for him to call. This is...not true.


Many of these things are issues that I still struggle with, even 8+ years later, but I mean, I still have my job, so I figure I must have figured out some systems and procedures that work for me. I think most importantly though, is that I have realized that I really need a solid foundation from which to start each day, and which will put me in the position for success from the very beginning before I even lift a finger for that day. And while yes, I am writing about these suggestions in the context of my workday, I think ...if you look at it in a broader sense, it’s just good common sense stuff for every day. Whether you’re working or not. And I realize that many folks are not working right now, and that is an unfortunate position to be in. Ugh. What a weird and awful time. I think what I have sussed out for myself is helpful in terms of just being able to exist and function, regardless if there is work to be done or people to be seen or if you can’t even see a point to anything at all, in weird and awful times, or just in the normal course of life. All of these little things help me when I can’t figure out what that point is, and they help me keep going, anyhow


At the risk of sounding cheesy, I need to structure my day around the principles of what I like to think of as R+R. Not Rest and Relaxation--what do you think this is, a vacation? No, we’re working! From home! But still working! So: Rhythm, or a strong, regular, repeated pattern (of movement or sound, says the dictionary, but we’re expanding the definition to fit our needs) and Ritual, or, a sequence of activities, or a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order. In short, I need to cultivate a routine that I do regularly. I guess R+R could stand for Regular Routine. But I like Ritual Rhythms. Or Rhythmic Ritual! Or all the Rs, whatever.



For me this means waking up early. Early enough so that I can do the following things: take a walk, wash my face, make the bed (this is maybe the MOST important--if I don’t make the bed, it plagues me all day long) clean up the kitchen if I didn’t do it the night before, start coffee, record my dreams, have time to read and drink my coffee for 30 minutes to an hour before the work day starts.



For me, this is an optimal morning that got both my blood and my brain moving well in advance of being at my desk, and at the very least I got my reading and exercise in early, so even if the whole day goes off the rails and I end up working until 9PM, at least I already gave myself the opportunity to do those non-negotiable essential things for me. To coin a phrase from Amy Landino, even though I have to spend a large chunk of my day working, at least I got to start the day off 'on my own terms.'





I have to make sure I get a little something to eat before I start my day. Not as soon as I awake...the thought of that makes me vaguely ill, but sometime a few hours after. I am not one for sweet breakfasts, so I can’t do cereal or smoothies or breakfast bars; I might instead eat a hard boiled egg, or a slice of toast with almond butter or avocado--and usually that’s good enough, fuel-wise, to get me started for the day. Pictured here is some sort of bread that I made with leftover fruits and oats and to be honest it wasn’t the best tasting thing ever... but I thought it made a nice photo!



I need to make sure that I am dressed before I sit at my desk. It might be tempting to work in your pajamas but you’ll probably find pretty quickly that practice works better in theory than reality. Or maybe that’s just me. But I personally feel that there’s nothing grosser or less professional-feeling than taking phone calls and writing emails, bra-less, in the same clothes you’ve slept in. And I don’t even have a very professional image to uphold! It’s not like I’m on Zoom meetings all day or anything like that. I work with a small team and we Skype maybe once a week.

Getting dressed makes me feel grounded and connected to reality; it flips that mental switch and signals a shift in my day that I’m about to do the thing that, you know, puts money in the bank. So I strongly suggest that you do not go through the motions of your day in a bed-headed, half-sleep, pajama fog. Put on pants and a clean shirt --at the very least, in something you’d feel okay being seen wearing in public, outside the house--and take a moment to dress, in some approximation, like you’re about to do the thing that makes you money. Unless you make money with your clothes off. In which case, more power to you.



It took me a very long time to loosen up with regard to working from home. I was used to working in an office where if you weren’t on the phone, it was dead silent. No one had music playing, or god forbid, headphones on, listening to music or whatever. I ate lunch quickly at my desk, I didn’t take a “lunch hour” and I certainly didn’t eat lunch off-site. I rarely even walked away from my desk, except for a bathroom break. I didn’t even wear perfume--which I love to wear!-- because my boss was allergic, and very crabby about it, if you happened to forget this.

When I began working from home, I at first adhered to many of these conditioned, in-office habits, but as I slowly realized there was no one around to bother with my music or perfume, I began to shed all of those practices which didn’t make sense anymore. I wear my perfumes now, sometimes, sampling three or four of them throughout the day! There’s no one to notice or complain about it, so why not make my day a little more sweeter and pleasant-smelling? I burn candles and incense and run my essential oil diffuser, too! I now listen to music while I work; there’s no one around to give me weird looks with regard to the eerie pan flutes,  ghost wails, or doom metal sounds coming from my cubicle. I have art and knicknacks displayed prominently, in every shelf and on every wall of my home-office, which I never could have gotten away with in a more traditional office setting. Taxidermy and memento mori make people uncomfortable, who knew? But now that you can add different backgrounds in your Zoom and Skype meetings, who is even going to know?


 I have the freedom now to create a much more pleasant environment in which to hunker down and weather the work day, and I am finally okay with fully taking advantage of that. I still eat my lunch at my desk, though. I know work from home gurus tell you to step away and set some boundaries and eat lunch at the kitchen table, but I haven’t worked my way up to that yet. I’ve worked from home for close to a decade now, so I have a feeling I might never get there.

Lastly, I mentioned some initial concerns with regard to prioritizing and managing my projects and though I haven’t yet found the perfect system that works for me, what I have found--and this is probably just common sense to a lot of people--is the practice of writing things down. What a novel concept, right? Believe it or not, it’s just been in recent years that I have begun to do this. Before I was writing lists and scheduling appointments on calendars, etc., I somehow thought that I was...just supposed to innately remember everything? Like...it was somehow cheating...at life...to write reminders and make to-do lists and things to see visually, to motivate you to take of your obligations and responsibilities and to finish your projects and reach your deadlines? I guess I can be a little dense. Because it just never occurred to me that I could do this. It only took about three years of my annoying baby sister extolling the virtues of planners before I figured out that maybe, this once, I should listen to her.


Now I have a personal planner and a notebook for work to jot down notes and ideas and whatever might need doing, and hey--how about that! I get things done! Don't tell Baby Sister I was right, though.


These are a handful of things that helped me settle into a work from home routine, and which continue to make the workday a little easier the longer I spend time working this way. But they are also things that just...make life a little easier, you know? Wake up early enough to do the things you want to do before the day starts in earnest. Get dressed and signal that shift in your mindset from dream-time to do-time. Scent your person and your space with lovely fragrances, listen to pleasing sounds, surround your space--whether it’s your office or even your bathroom!--with things you like to look at. These things just feel good! Write things down, you can’t expect yourself to remember everything! And above all, be kind to yourself; it may take you to  get it together, and that's okay. By the time you have built a solid routine for yourself, it might turn out that your workplace has reopened. Or perhaps your employer will have concluded that working from home was a positive situation with benefits that outweigh having a team in an office, and you’ll stay put.

Either way, hopefully, like me, you’ll find that you don’t have to make things harder on yourself than they have to be, and perhaps with a few of the tips I have mentioned here, you may even make them easier. Good luck!"

Monday, May 11, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 57: May 11, 2020

Late last week, while deep in conversation with my sisters, Eldest mentioned how busy and productive she had been lately...unusually so, given her usual penchant for idling, slacking, and avoiding work. (I'm only half-joking; that woman could earn a gold medal for creative laziness!) And then she mused, "I'm keeping myself too busy to panic." 

Genius.

Look, I'm all about sitting with my feelings and processing shit. But if one is highly self-aware (and I am not saying I am, but I definitely try to be), to say nothing of being predisposed to depression or anxiety, there can come a time when there are too many thoughts and feels. Catastrophizing, hopelessness, isolation, lassitude, and indifference can dog at one. And that can get old. So...I am going to try to follow Eldest's lead. Just keep busy. Chores or work or exercise or napping or entertainment or cooking or talking on the phone or reading or creative endeavors or whatever--keep the mind filled and the body engaged. Let's see how that goes.

Last evening, I went for a walk around my complex. I wore a mask, and while I didn't get near anyone, the few people that I did see were definitely not wearing masks. To each their own, I suppose. And then I passed by the basketball court, and saw just about the saddest sight in the world:

An abandoned basketball court, in Indiana, in clement weather?
 This is definitely the end of the world. 
Through this whole process of learning how to work from home, I've been trying to come up with a decent desk set-up. When I moved into The Haggery, I turned the second bedroom into an office space/craft room, but somehow, I don't really care to do my library work in that space. So I took over the dining area, and that's answered quite well. But then, of course, I no longer had a place to eat my meals. For several weeks now, I've just been slumming it by picnicking, more or less, in an armchair in the living room, but it doesn't make for a tidy or civilized meal. And so...last night, I decided to convert my craft room into a temporary dining space!Very civilized.

Vegetable beef stew, from Dinner at the Zoo. 
Although, I have now devolved into me posting pictures of my meals, thereby resorting to the banality of a blogger who has nothing of import or meaning to express.

Oh, well, it's not like I promised profundity. If you want that, you're barking up the wrong blog.

Anyway, back to keeping myself busy. What do you do to keep yourself occupied during the Apocalypse?

Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts: 
Total Number of Cases: 24,627 (up from yesterday's 24,126)
1,411 people have died.

Nationwide, 79,756 people have died.

Sunday, May 10, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 56: May 10, 2020

Another day, another holiday in quarantine. Easter has passed us by, and Earth Day, and lots of birthdays and death days and anniversaries. And today, Mother's Day.

Y'all, even during a "normal" year, I feel some sort of way about Mother's Day. My mother, with whom I shared a complex and troubled relationship, passed away in 2013, long before she should have done. And my grandmother (my mother's mother), who essentially raised me, passed away in 2017. So, apart from my (former) mother-in-law, whom I love dearly, I'm a bit of a motherless chick. So are my sisters. So each year, when Mother's Day rolls around, we give a lot of our friends some semi-resentful side-eye.

And this year? I don't even know how to feel. Which is kinda ridiculous, seeing as how Apocalypse 2020 has certainly had me performing a great number of emotional gymnastics and sit with some troubling, fascinating, inexplicable thoughts and feelings. I guess, instead of talking about how I feel, I'll talk about...10 Things I Would Say to My Mom, If She Were Still Alive:




1. Stay the Fuck at Home.
2. 40 cats was definitely too many.
3. Let's go watch Downton Abbey together.
4. You need to read this book...
5. What in the actual hell were you thinking, smoking all those years?
6. For fuck's sake, why don't you pick up the phone when I call?
7. Tell me everything.
8. I'm sorry. I love you.
9. You did your best, and I'm so fucking proud of you.
10. In the past three months, I have been equally torn between "I'm so glad you're not here to struggle and worry through this," and "holy fuck, I want my mother."
Bonus round: 
11. Thank you for teaching me how to swear.


Eldest Sister summed up her thoughts pretty well:


Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts: 
Total Number of Cases: 24,126 (up from yesterday's 23,732)
1,379 people have died. 

Natitonwide, 78,771 people have died.

Plague Diaries, Issue 55



Quarantine fatigue.

I don't know if this is an actual term that's been coined, but if now, I call dibs. Fat lot of good it will do, though--I called dibs on the term "plandemic" as a way to describe the dearth of plans we "planner folks" are suffering through, and then some chump went and turned it into some lame-ass conspiracy theory. I haven't watched the video. I don't need to. It's just another asshole trying to stir shit up.

Anyway. I digress.

Quarantine fatigue. It's officially A Thing. And I've got it. Doesn't matter if Staying The Fuck At Home is the right thing to do...it's becoming the hard thing to do. Particularly when the beautiful May sunshine bursts forth and the spring breeze teases its way through the trees and there are so many birds tweeting and I look out the window and think...just one socially-distanced walk or hike with one other person...And remember the last time I went to a concert, and wonder, Is that the last time I ever go to a concert? And think about how casually we could go out and run errands and sit on eachothers' porches and drink beer. And wish I were standing at the Info Desks at work, chatting with my colleagues and being vaguely annoyed at the customers who have no concept of personal space.

The days are starting to really run together, and I've stopped trying to bother to know what date it is, and it's like a playlist of my least favorite songs on repeat. At this point, I'm likely sounding like a parrot, or a broken record, or a broken parrot. Probably a broken parrot. And that's what quarantine fatigue looks like for me.

Also, quarantine fatigue is probably just another word for depression.

Current Indiana COVID-19 Counts:
Total Number of Cases: 23,732
1,362 people have died.

Nationwide, 77,034 people have died.

Friday, May 8, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 54: May 6-7, 2020

For the last couple of days, I've been silent on the blog here, for the simple reason that literally, nothing has transpired that merits any remarks. Wednesday and Thursday seemed to bled together: sat inside my home, doing work, napping, petting my cats, eating. I berated myself for not doing more. I thanked whatever higher power is listening that I am not yet sick. I re-read books that I have read many times before, because I knew what would happen, and that's a huge comfort right now. I skyped with my sisters and zoomed with colleagues and visited with Susan and shook my head over the news. I listened to the birds sing, I watched the trees start to bedeck themselves in their summer foliage, I wondered when I will see my friends again. Late last night, I went onto Google Streetview and explored far northeastern Indiana, day-dreaming about a time when I can drive up there and visit friends and see a different part of the state and simply...escape.

It's becoming more and more clear to me that 2020, at least, is going to be a lost year. I'm not saying, exactly, that our lives are wasted during this time. But it does feel like this time--these weeks and months--is lost to us in many ways, as we cannot live and love and experience and explore and carry on as we used to have the privilege to do. (Right now, I am not going to unpack the "p" word. Yes, we were privileged to have the freedom and means to live the lives that we have lived up until this point, but just because it was a privilege doesn't make it less painful, now that we have lost that privilege. Or maybe it should. But again, right now, I'm not going to unpack my privilege beyond acknowledging its existence.) Yes, we can live meaningful lives shut up in our homes, but both the things that brought us joy--plans and dreams and goals and trips and treats and meaningful human interactions--and the things that seemed like unremarkable, quotidian drudgeries--errands and tedious work meetings and meaningless human interactions and picking up our mail without washing our hands afterwards like we're channeling Lady MacBeth--have been denied to us, so the definition of meaningful lives, or at least the execution of meaningful lives, must change.

Also, I'm long enough in the tooth now to really fucking resent having lost this time. I'm turning 40 in a few weeks, for fucks sake; I don't have so many prime years of my life left to surrender this time with good grace.

I know that there are people reading this who probably think I am being feeble or defeatist or grumbly and am limiting my definitions about what a good and meaningful life can look like right now. And they might not be wrong. Nonetheless, this is how I feel right now. Well, lest it seems like I am completely and unabashedly wallowing, I'll end this reflection on a bitterly humorous note: It's kinda funny: before the end of the world, I wasted plenty of my life, lost hours to god only knows what, didn't have much meaning to my existence quite often. But I chose that, dammit.)

Daily Indiana COVID-19 Count:
Total Number of Cases: 22,503
1,295 people have died

Nationwide: 73, 297 people have died. 

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 53: May 5, 2020

Got perspective? Try wine. 
Today was one of the most unremarkable days since the Apocalypse, Version 2020 began. And unremarkable in the best way possible. Other than checking the news, nothing bad really happened. And nothing gloriously exciting happened either. That's okay, too! It was just a regular day, nothing remarkable. Had it not been The End of The World As Know It, I would have gone in to work and maybe run an errand or two, and then come home, puttered about, and gone to bed. Also a regular day, also unremarkable. In that scenario, I would have perhaps wondered if my unremarkable life was not being lived to its fullest--even as I chuckled over the fact that really, what else have I craved for years but a quiet life of Midwestern anonymity--and then I would have counted my various blessings and pleasant things that had populated my day.

Well, really, apart from the fact that in one scenario the world is burning more vigorously than normal and I am hiding inside my home all day, there's very little difference between the two scenarios. So why not treat the end of the day the same way? It was an unremarkable day, but there were still lovely parts to it, so here they are:

  • Tacos. Apocalypse Tacos. Atacolypse? Apoca-tacos? Whatever. Tacos.
  • All day, it was rainy and cloudy and downright chilly. I wish every day could be this dreary. 
  • Cuddly cats who let you poke their floofy soft belly-chonks. 
  • My friends delivered a gift basket from Oliver Winery, as a very lovely birthday gift. It was such a kind reminder of the loving people in my life, and of the existence of happier days, spent on the sunny grounds of the winery. One day, I'll go back. One day, we'll all go back.
  • Sanditon. By this point, we all know I'm a whore for historical British costume dramas. This year I've gobbled down Downton Abbey, The Crown, Vanity Fair, Belgravia, and now the 2019 Masterpiece Production of Jane Austen's unfinished, final novel. This was a nuanced production with some delightfully three-dimensional characters. In so many productions of this, there's so much one dimensional shallowness and snobbishness and venality, and as well, mean-spiritedness for its own sake. But I like to see kindness, spontaneous and directed from stranger to strangers, in real life and in entertainment, and there was plenty of it to be had in this production. The funny thing is, while its the complicated motives of complex characters who drive the plot, it's the good-hearted, more guileless people who are the heart of this show and make it stand out above the rest. I finished watching Season 1 this evening, and there is unfinished business, but it sounds like there shan't be a Season 2. Much like Ms. Austen's final novel, the tv show will probably remain incomplete, but it's no less a pleasure for that. 
Anyway. An unremarkable day, but when I factor in the good things--and I highly recommend doing so--a rather nice day, all around. But after Sanditon...I guess it's back to Tiger King. End times, indeed. 

Daily Indiana COVID-19 Counts:
Total Number of Cases: 21,033 (up from Monday's 20,507)
1,213 people have died. 

Daily Funnies: 

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 52: May 4, 2020


Austen is giving side-eye to literally everything. Me too, Austen. Me too.

While I was puttering about at The Prof's today, I paused briefly for a quick chat with her. Ours has always been that kind of dynamic--I've never been her silent lady's maid, gliding between parlour and bedroom, keeping myself to myself. More like, I've been a blowsy, garrulous, rather impertinent wench, with overtones of a fishwife hailing from the East End.  It's been a good almost-four years, working for and with the Prof, and these days especially, I do like to linger for a good chin-wag. It seems to amuse The Prof--she hasn't fired me yet. And right now,  it's the only face-to-face, in-real-life interaction either of us really get these days, and so The Prof, bless her, humors me.

Anyway. In the middle of one of our chats today, The Prof mentioned that, once again, death projections have gone up. And also that by June, up to 3,000 people could die each day. So, I decided to read some articles of my own...and came across this article, on The Hill, to get more of the gist. Here's the TL; DR:

  • The projections say the U.S. could see 200,000 new cases daily by June 1, with a daily death toll of 3,000
  • The number of daily cases peaked in late April at just over 30,000, with varying daily death  tolls between 1,500 and 2,000.
  • My interpretation: if by June 1, we are seeing 200,000 new cases/3,000 deaths per day...wouldn't that mean that the peak in April was not, in fact, the peak? That our peak is now supposed to be in late May/early June?
  • The revised numbers are based on the easing of social distancing rules
  • Deputy Press Secretary Judd Greere says "The President’s phased guidelines to open up America again are a scientific driven approach that the top health and infectious disease experts in the federal government agreed with [...]The health of the American people remains President Trump’s top priority and that will continue as we monitor the efforts by states to ease restrictions.
  • My interpretation: if our administration (and every state governor and civic leader) prioritized the health of the American people above all else, they would take a look at these revised death statistics and walk--no, run--back from every loosened restriction they've agreed to. Instead, they've decided that sacrificing 135,000 people is an acceptable cost to revive our economy. And yet.."the health of the American people remains President Trump's top priority." The press secretary--and thus, by extension, the Trump administration--once again has pissed on our head and told us it was raining. Oh, and also, our government doesn't even have the morals of an alleycat.

We're getting different messages from everyone. Scientists, epidemiologist, smart people who are experts, are telling us about spikes and waves and revised death tolls.

That douche you went to high school with and never left his home town--he knows that this is all a conspiracy, and that it's no worse than the flu.

And then governors and politicians and civic leaders are caving to pressure, rather than holding the line, and re-opening their domains and fiefdoms, and thus giving the impression that hey, so long as we put on our masks and limit the number of people at a gathering and so on, we'll be back on track by summer. No. NO. Back on track implies normal. Normal would be like July 4, 2019, when I went with friends to an Indianapolis Indians game on July 4 and had no than the usual fears (which is to say, it never crossed my mind) of picking up or transmitting a deadly illness. If we were back on track, we could go to another baseball game this July 4 and never wonder or worry, and there would be no COVID-19 threat. And that's just not the case. Coronavirus isn't going to stop just because it's time for you to play with your Ultimate Frisbee league after church, and then go to an evening Sunday dinner with your extended family. But governors trying to re-open their states are going to set the stage for this to happen.

Sorry fuckers, I will not be your juicy sacrificial lamb. To quote the wise Jon Stewart: No. No. I am not going to be your monkey. It's not worth my life. It's not worth The Prof's life, or either of my sisters or their partners' lives; it's not worth the life of the people, old and young, high and low, rich and poor, who could succumb to this because the governor said it was okay to go to a gathering of less than 25 people and so I went to a movie night and then two weeks later, four of us are sick and have passed it on to god only knows how many others. Because that's how this happens. This is how we die during this time. 

Well, at the end of the day, I'm 'Murican, right? I pull myself up by my bootstraps and I'm born free and independent and can look out for myself, and by god, I'm going to paddle my own canoe in this shit creek we're all stranded in.  Luck or privilege or god gave me a brain to use, and a moral compass to guide me, and right now, I'm using them both, and I've made this decision: If it ain't walking for health, working for money, or shopping for food, for the time being, I am staying the fuck at home. 


Daily Indiana COVID-19 Counts:
Total Number of Cases: 20,507 (up from Saturday's 19,295)
1,151 people have died.

Daily Gratitude:  
When Mondays feel good. I did a lot of work today! Almost like old times.

Daily Funnies:




Saturday, May 2, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 51: May 2, 2020

Over the course of the last 6 weeks, I have taken a very strict interpretation of the Stay-At-Home order. Not only because The Prof was potentially sick, and I didn't want to risk spreading contagion, but because I am a wee bit too much of a law-abiding goody-two-shoes for my own good. So when I read that the Stay At Home order excluded all travel that was not essential, I really hunkered down. No getting in the car and going anywhere, other than The Prof's house, three days a week.

I went 6 weeks without putting gas in my car.

But last evening...I did a naughty thing. I got in my car and I drove, for no essential reason. And god help me, it was wonderful to get out and remember that an entire world exists outside my little apartment. It was wonderful to get out and see my beloved Southern Indiana in all its humble beauty, which I gave up just about everything for. I may not be able to do corn festivals or go on barn tours or guided wildflower hikes or visit the state fair or play corn hole right now, but I can at least remind myself of the beautiful place where I live.

And no need to worry--I drove to Solsberry, Indiana, an unincorporated township of about 4000 here in Southern Indiana. So, given that very few people know of this place's existence, it kind of predisposes itself to to social distancing! My grandfather's grandparents are buried in a small cemetery out there, and I love to drive out and spend some time there, every now and then. The drive is always gorgeous, and the cemetery itself is peaceful and perfect.

So, that's what I did yesterday evening. As the clouds gathered and the evening fell, I drove and feasted my eyes on rural Indiana in the springtime and tried very hard not to think too much about the politics of the population there. I sat by John and Sarah Derrickson's graves and wondered how the hell they ended up being buried in Southern Indiana, when so much of their family were in the northern part of the state, and pondered what their lives had been like, and listened to the Canadian geese honk, and happily pondered better days to come. These better days have to come, don't they? Some day?

Still and all. Getting out of the house and going on a little road trip really were quite restorative for me--it really helped me banish some of my recent discombobulation. If it's safe for you to do so, I urge you to do the same. Get out of your home, drive around, remind yourself of the natural world, still carrying on. Someday, we will be able to really experience and explore our beloved haunts again, and discover new ones, too.

For now, I'll leave you with pictures of one of the loveliest parts of Indiana...













And if you made it this far...

Daily Indiana COVID-19 Counts: 
Total Number of Cases: 19,295 (up from yesterday's 18,630)
130 of these cases are in Monroe County. 
1,115 have died. 

Friday, May 1, 2020

Plague Diaries, Issue 50: May 1, 2020

Things are changing. 

Earlier today, the sky was a gorgeous blue.
By the golden hour, the clouds had started to gather.
Symbolism in the time of coronvirus...

Today, the Indiana Governor decided unveiled a plan to "reopen" our state in five stages to get us "back on track" by July 4. We (Indiana) are nearing the end of the first stage now, and Stage 2 begins on this coming Monday, May 4, and will include the lifting of essential travel restrictions, increase in social gatherings (from 10 to 25), and retail and commercial businesses being allowed to re-open at 50% capacity. I suppose to keep the vulnerable safe, those who are 65+, or in an at-risk group, are asked to stay at home. Churches and restaurants will also be permitted to re-open during Stage 2. And if everything goes according to plan, Stage 3 will start on May 24, with more restrictions loosened, and before you know it, bob's your uncle! The state will be operating at normal capacity by July 4! We'll be able to have the Indiana State Fair!Yay! The coronavirus has gone away!

Except nope, it has not. Our governor, like many others, has caved to the pressure and yes, the financial needs and fears of many, and so here we are. The state is re-opening, but COVID-19 still stalks us. Admittedly, Holcomb has emphasized that these plans and dates are subject to change, based on four "principles" (contact tracing, ICU bed/ventilator capacity, decrease in hospitalized patients, and ability to test all who show symptoms) that the state government is using to guide its decisions. So who knows? Maybe Holcomb wants to have a plan in place, at least, and if (when) everything goes back to hell in a handbasket and these four principles are compromised, he can walk back from these dates. Who knows? I just don't see how all of us getting back out and resuming our old lives--even in these stages--is going to help the situation or build an adequate amount of herd immunity. In fact, I worry that the exact opposite will happen--it will make the situation worse. But I'm neither an epidemiologist, a statistician, or even a citizen with an abiding interest in science, so maybe I'm mistaken. Anyone who knows me know how much I love to be right, but this is one instance in which I would love to be wrong. I will concede, however, it's very easy for me to take this stance--my livelihood and finances have not yet been materially damaged (although I won't be looking at my retirement account anytime soon), so it costs me nothing to scream into the void, "Stay the fuck at home!"

Locally, here in Monroe County, we have a complication that we are potentially encountering. According to a recently-released study released by Datamir, a firm which has successfully identified many hotspots up to 14 days before they emerge, has now identified Monroe County as an emerging hotspot. And thank god, it looks like our local government is taking a bit more of a conservative (weird thing to say) approach than is the state as a whole. Apparently, we are to maintain the "status quo", and the Governor's plan does not yet apply to us. Hell if I know when it will. So let's just make everything that much more confusing, shall we?

So, at the close of May 1, 2020, this is where we are, here in the humble Hoosier State. Up until now, I've been pretty proud of Holcomb and his handling of this crisis, and frankly, I have a great deal of sympathy for this poor fucker, especially now. Leaders (political, financial, and moral) are in a very difficult position, and while the winning scenario will always be the one in which the most lives are saved, the winning scenario is proving to be terribly costly, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise.

Be smart and stay safe, folks. Please remember, this is not over, even if the government tells you you can go to church or a restaurant or a nail salon or TJ Maxx or a party or whatever. COVID-19 didn't abide by the stay-at-home orders at any point before, and it's not going to start now.  And while you may be healthy and not at risk, you're not safe, not by a long shot, and neither are our vulnerable loved ones. As long as you possibly can, as much as you can without endangering your mental, financial, and physical well-being, stay solitary, stay safe, and stay at home.

Daily Indiana COVID-19 Counts: 

Total Number of Cases: 18,630 (up from yesterday's report of 17,985)
1062 people have died.