February 17, 2025

Living in the time of pandemic: COVID-19 (246)

Year 4 of COVID in the Bay Area.

Year 5, Day 295: Today was demoralizing. Or started off demoralized and just stayed that way. It’s been a long long haul of fibro and chronic fatigue taking turns kicking me in the teeth every day, for almost two solid weeks. I have very little spirit left.

I did get an enormous amount of work done, considering how much of my morning I lost to other people. Honestly it feels like most of my days are about other people and their needs. I don’t love this. It’s part of the management gig but sigh because after I get through the exhausting if necessary peopling, then it’s a full day of my own work waiting for me and there simply are not enough hours in the day.

Checked off many boxes at home, too: finished one portion of our complicated taxes; got our churning credit card in the mail and promptly made 5 purchases that I’d been holding (3 bills, a giant order for Lakota families, ordered my medication refills); scheduled a notary appointment for PiC to get paperwork finalized; scheduled a last minute appointment for JB to get their braces adjusted after a tooth semi-sort-of-suddenly fell out. It goes from wiggly for weeks to IT’S ABOUT TO COME OUT without any predictability. Normally that doesn’t matter but, with braces, each time a tooth falls out, it’s a whole thing with the wire poking them and everything.

I commiserated with a friend in the same position of limbo and we at least feel a little more confident that we’re both in the same boat. Stinks for both of us but… misery, company, and so on.

Year 5, Day 296: I started the day running at warp speed, getting JB out of the house before 8 am for the braces fix, and then getting back into work mode all before I normally get settled into work.

Despite how hard things are right now, and we’re both bone tired between the two kids, the two jobs that are Really Hard right now, and everything else we’re juggling, I’m also deeply grateful for our financial stability. We have a dry safe home (atmospheric river incoming). Our kids never go hungry (SmolAc’s wails of despondency when they suddenly need a snack notwithstanding). They don’t have any poverty-related health issues. We can afford for me to have therapy and to work with a trainer to work on my health issues. This GFM came across my radar from the book community as this author and her family are navigating a third bout of homelessness. They prepared as much as they could but they’re facing a real uphill battle. I nearly broke myself over what, 16 years?, to keep my nuclear family off the streets and paying their bills but a huge part of that success was because my hard work was combined with luck in a number of areas. This family’s working hard, they need a bushel of good luck. Failing that, for now, they need a few bushels of cash to see them through til that luck breaks their way.

*”all this could be worse” isn’t my coping strategy even if true. Knowing that doesn’t make anything feel less hard or bad. It’s just an observation because I’ve been there – barely making ends meet while working myself to the bone. Working this hard in precarity is different from working this hard and being relatively secure. We’re not the kind of secure where we never have to worry but the (not wolves because I like them but something else that stands in for the olden idea of wolves) are a lot further from our doors than other folks’.

Year 5, Day 297: I’m eating these very tasty brisket chips and just realized that most of PiC’s local friends (“the guys” we call them) make or buy yummy treats for holiday gifts. They all bake, or whatever you do to create some of these treats, and I find that yet another reason they are delightful. Other reasons: they’re solidly dependable, caring, family-oriented in a healthy not-creepy GOP sort of way. When we had that emergency a few years back and I asked them for directions, without explaining until the very end why and definitely without asking for help because I don’t DO that, they immediately mobilized anyway and got to PiC before I did (they were closer). They have reasonable, healthy partnerships whether they have kids or not.

I took this gaming Alignment Quiz the other day and could not answer question 15 because I have no idea what local people think of me or if they give two hoots about my well-being. I CAN answer that for PiC. His folks show up. Another guy in the group had to move his dad into a nursing home and all the guys were there when he needed help clearing out the mess left behind. They’re all in their 50s and they’re still moving friends! And no egos to speak of so no one got injured. I really like that about them.

Year 5, Day 298: My contributions to dinner all week have been takeout. Ordered burgers at the start of the week, picking up pizza today because we’re a mere two miles away and still somehow not in their delivery radius and I’m not willing to pay their delivery fees. I should do the comparison on the time vs fees.

I have so much hair after 3 years of no haircuts, I could chop 8 inches off and still have plenty of room to fix the mess before it gets up to my shoulders. IS IT TIME??

PiC discovered frozen mini corn dogs at Costco! We love them. What is it about foods in finger food sizes that makes them so much more enticing? Normally one corn dog would be a serving size. Pretty sure I had 9 mini corn dogs.

Year 5, Day 299: Trying to find some good in the small moments even as I compile my list of reasons to contact our Congresspeople. There’s a rhythm to stirring a pot of oatmeal for everyone else to breakfast on (too mushy for me). I reserved a whole half hour for myself to just do work without speaking to anyone else after my first meeting of the day. That gave me a tiny bit of equilibrium back.

The Costco shipments to the Lakota reservation are getting unstuck, supplies are getting to people who need them. The first family this month asked only for space heaters for all the trailers. We sent enough for everyone. The second family has a house that’s more winter tight (but that’s all relative) so they’ve been giving bed space to folks whose homes aren’t. They needed blankets and food as they hardly had enough for themselves. We sent a huge (Costco FTW!) shipment of food and blankets. I’m working on the third family but we’ll be clean out of money pretty quick. They have ten family members listed too. I’m trying to shake out a bit more cash because right now I can only get them a couple weeks worth of food along with the toilet paper, shampoo, conditioner, and soap. I’d like to add a few more things: toothbrushes, toothpaste, detergent, more food.

I absolutely know there’s no time for a dog right now, I can’t even make time to go borrow one for a walk. My soul doesn’t care about reality or responsibilities, it yearns for a dog snoring at the foot of my bed again. Can’t. But want.

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February 10, 2025

Living in the time of pandemic: COVID-19 (245)

Year 4 of COVID in the Bay Area.

Year 5, Day 288: A pain flare kicked my ass this weekend. Still is. Some of it’s probably the barometric pressure shifting on me, a good amount of it will be the stress lately and sleeping badly because Smol Acrobat bunked with us for a couple nights. “I wike your bed better, it’s bigger den our bed” they observed. Then why did I keep waking up to you sleeping on my head?

Trudeau’s speech made me sad in that, yes! We know this is unhinged behavior that none of us (North Americans who aren’t garbage) want and we’re also fighting what feels like a losing battle against it all. We’re still fighting but man was it hard not to feel so much shame to be an American in this moment.

“I hate most people, it takes all of my skill to hide that!” – Blake, Madam Secretary.
Boy do I feel that.

Half my day was eaten up with calls. I’m living my nightmare job right now. May this pass soon.

Contacted all our Congresspeople to vote against these nominations.

Year 5, Day 289: My stress cravings are getting very specific. I catch myself wanting a Cinnabon most days. Or an old fashioned donut plus a donut hole. Or a ribeye. Today, though, I survived on a glamorous half inch slice of quiche and small Gatorade because I had no appetite. My pain was so intense last night that I caved and took a tramadol. I’ve not taken one in two years for a very good reason: it alleviates my pain for a little while and then I pay for it five times over with side effects. Feeling like my bones are lava has become almost routine on bad days, but this is Day 3 of extremely high pain. So high that it actually distracted me from work. Work is usually my way of distracting myself from the pain and it’s rare for anything to break my hyperfocus when that’s in gear. The tramadol bought me 3 hours of blunted tolerable pain. It also bought me 18 hours of severe nausea. These trade-offs are NOT worth it. But what choice do I have? We really need better pain control options. This is awful.

PiC had to take over my school runs and JB’s activities today because I felt so awful. I couldn’t even feel guilty.

Year 5, Day 290: Pacing myself this week has been the pits. I’ve been mostly bedridden because sitting and standing are so fatiguing they send my pain through the roof into the stratosphere. I refuse to take the tramadol again, that is SO not worth it.

You know what’s great? Giant spoonful of peanut butter. Can’t take away pain or fatigue or that river of lava flowing through my bones but it is DELICIOUS.

Was super proud of a friend who has committed to making calls to Senators even though it was hard for her. I provided all the scripts and phone numbers I had collected from Celeste Pewter and cheered her from bed.

Year 5, Day 291: From Courtney Milan’s newsletter, the word I was searching for last week for this surreal moment in time: “I learned a word this week: hypernormalization.

It’s the word people used to describe what was happening in the Soviet bloc countries in the 1970s and 1980s, as people went about their daily lives deeply aware that the center would not hold, that everything was falling apart, but with nothing left to do but pretend that life would go on as they understood it.

It’s a word that encompasses the moment when a large number of us know what is happening to our country—know what we are seeing—but engage in a mass, country-wide kayfabe to keep on doing the things we need to do to survive as individuals, even knowing that some individuals won’t make it and that the world we know is rapidly deteriorating around us.”

I think she’s 100% right about this too: “I firmly believe that if nothing is done, historians will place the end of the United States as a democratic, constitutional republic somewhere between a few days ago and a few months from now.”

I’ve been checking in on my people and making sure they know we’re here for them. I don’t know how, or if, this country survives these body blows. Maybe it doesn’t. But we as individuals and people may survive if we take care of each other.

We expect a few lump sums of money this year that’s mostly meant to pay for the roof but I’m also earmarking direct aid for people I’ll never meet offline who are in need or are community organizers or activists themselves.

Year 5, Day 292: I love Smitten Kitchen, I knew they wouldn’t fail me when I didn’t know how I was going to cook those spareribs I got on sale.

I spaced out the cooking process across DAYS because I haven’t been able to sit up or be out of bed most of this week. Mixed the spices one day. Dredged the ribs another session. Then popped them in the oven in the morning to bake for HOURS. A friend asked me how I get anything / everything done / survive between my health and my life. Well. This kind of budgeting is one way.

You know what’s funny about sending holiday cards super late? Five friends have texted me delighted to have received it. This doesn’t happen during the year-end holidays, no one cares or has time to care at that time of year.

Costco had no eggs and we are just about out. I feel vaguely like a failure of a quartermaster because I’m usually on top of these things and get enough supplies to hold us over for a while or ration supplies to make it stretch. PiC was advised to get there between 9 and 10 am to get eggs so they do have some, they just run out quickly.

UPDATE: Children’s Wisconsin hospital reinstates gender-affirming care for trans teen after canceling in wake of Trump’s executive order

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February 3, 2025

Living in the time of pandemic: COVID-19 (244)

Year 4 of COVID in the Bay Area.

Year 5, Day 281: There’s something I can’t stand about the audio of dubbed TV shows or movies. The voices always sound too breathy and feel mismatched to the people they’re dubbing. Even when I’m not looking at the screen, that offness remains.

Wrote to all our Congresspeople again today to tell them, again, we do NOT want bipartisanship with this administration. I don’t want to see one single CA Senatorial vote for any of their nominations or bills or anything.

Stand up for trans rights, immigrants rights, reproductive healthcare rights. Stop pissing away what little goodwill remains for scraps of recognition or Republican “cooperation”. Also instructed all of them to SPEAK UP against this federal funding freeze bullshit.

Although I’m being worked into the ground, I’m also keeping it front of mind that I cannot exist solely to deal with W2 work, chores, giving and activism alone. We must carve out room for rest (even if it’s not enough) and joy. We need to sustain for many more days, weeks, and months. We don’t have to pretend life is NORMAL but we do VERY much need to deliberately choose to have good in every one of our days. We’ll burn out spectacularly if we don’t.

Kate Elliot’s wisdom on the topic at her blog: The 5 Cs: a rubric for getting through the storm

Year 5, Day 282: The “purge if you don’t miss it in a year” cycle doesn’t work for me. My regret cycles kick in at 2-4 years, and I never know which it’ll be for, or if it’s silly.

At the moment I am regretting getting rid of my Top Shop leggings a few years back. I’m wearing the one remaining pair under my cargo pants for warmth so it matters very little how they look or fit, it only matters that they’re oh so soft. Then again, I don’t think I’d still fit at Petite 2 size anymore, so maybe this is rose colored glasses at play too.

JB is so bitter that they have the day off school tomorrow but isn’t allowed to stay up late tonight doing crafts. We still have to get up for the dentist early tomorrow morning. I don’t think I knew they had the day off when I made the appointments but it worked out, mostly.

Year 5, Day 283: Smol Acrobat loves counting my reps for me. After 30 lateral raises, 14 squats and 15 glute bridges: “what are you doing NOW.”

Lying on the floor like roadkill, kid, I’m tired!

It’s been a hell of a day. Meetings all morning, then getting into actual work but an idle checking in on people led to finding out I have to take more meetings because folks have needs that need to be heard and their managers have totally dropped the ball so I need to pick it up. Fahhhhh.

I’m extra tired. So tired I WANT to cry emotionally but physically am just too damn tired to and who has the time to anyway?

This all-the-meetings! life is hell and I hate it. I’d like to think or know that it’s temporary but due to upcoming reorganizing, probably some of it is here to stay. I have to figure out how to share the pain so it’s manageable workload and not just pain.

Soothing background show for the day: Man on the Inside. So many The Good Place alum, I hope they keep adding more in the second season.

Year 5, Day 284: We’re saving for the roof replacement and travel and replenishing the dog fund. It feels very jarring to be thinking of these trivial things (and how do we suddenly have tiny poppy plants spread all over the place?) this week with everything going on.

It feels like we’re living in 1930s Germany. I know many people outside the US see the same thing when they look at us. Even though we’re safer than most being in California, my gut screams that we have to fight and plan for the worst.

Asians have historically been OTHER. Just because we’ve been temporarily useful in recent years as a model minority (which is bullshit, not safety, and woe to most Asians who believe otherwise) we’ll be a target just as much as our fellow minorities. We may not be the first but our turn will come. I sure as hell don’t plan to be compliant. We have to fight to help the folks on the front lines, now. Trans people, sex workers, they might be first because the world thinks they’re expendable, but no one who isn’t a cishet white male is safe. I remember the Chinese Exclusion Act and Japanese internment camps and Korematsu v. United States and the millions of racist indignities before, in between and since then.

Soothing background show for the day: Madam Secretary. I find the competence and (sometimes unflappability) of Tea Leoni’s Elizabeth McCord and Bebe Neuwirth’s Nadine Tolliver comforting.

Year 5, Day 285: I shared CA Senator phone numbers with two more people, asking them to call and leave voicemails when bad shit is happening (when is bad shit NOT happening these days) to pressure them into taking action.

I called the Costco feedback line to thank them for maintaining their line on DEI policies and not caving to pressure internally or externally both as a customer and a shareholder. 1966 positive calls today, she said! This is important that they hear from us that they should be continuing to hold this line. I need to get a phone number to yell at Target. Wait, here’s the number to yell at Target, or (thanks to Celeste Pewter).

Nicole and Maggie have lists of actions, pick one or two that you can do? Jan 26 and Feb 1.

I chose a new churning credit card: Chase Sapphire Preferred, 60000 bonus points for $4000 spend in 3 months. I should have done this last month, the kids’ dental bill alone was $1000. But we have more coming up, hitting that requirement will happen pretty quickly. Making a note for myself that I should plan to do this early next year. Again that double feeling of surrealism with planning: will we be here next year? Will we be able to make use of points hoards?

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