February 24, 2025

Living in the time of pandemic: COVID-19 (247)

Year 4 of COVID in the Bay Area.

Year 5, Day 302: This is the first day I’ve had to mostly myself (while still being responsible for JB) for so long I actually can’t remember when last I had this luxury. The morning was dedicated to setting up the back-up laptop (3 hours in and about 60% done). I planned to pop out for a spot of gardening (hauling soil) afterwards but my hips said absolutely not so instead the plan became trying to get a better rate from Comcast (also no dice, I have to wait til my promotional period is almost over because their offers right now stink).

For some time off my butt, I discarded the ideas to make pretzels, or mozzarella cheese, from kits. Both too time consuming and apparently you cannot make cheese from ultra pasteurized milk so we didn’t have the right ingredients. I mixed up a marinade for seared tuna steaks and baked a load of mini muffins from scratch using an easy recipe a PF buddy shared (turned out great but that zapped all my energy). The recipe WAS simple but the physical demands were too much and sent me to bed for two hours. Unfortunately, amid all the attempts at decompression, my plan from last week to hack off a foot of my hair was entirely forgotten. Drat!

This was the first homecooked meal I’ve made in at least that long, or longer and it’s no coincidence that it lands on my single day off but it was also fortuitous that I defrosted the fish two days earlier. We had seared tuna in a soy honey sesame marinade with rice and roasted broccoli. Mini muffins for dessert!

Year 5, Day 303: Double Mondays are the pits. I front loaded the day with three dog encounters and agreeing to dogsit for our elderly neighbor who has a family emergency to tend to soon. That will be weird, we haven’t had a dog around for ten months now. I felt like jumping out of my skin half the day, not sure why but speculated it was being too keyed up with stress and being full to the brim with emotions about the work and the world.

Still, I managed to avoid any meetings today so I was able to power through so much work, my personal backlog was as close to tamed as it ever gets.

The kids moved up in their self defense class to a more intense class. I was dreading this change because of the time of the new class, but I’ve tested a few ways to deal with it and might be making it work well enough to reduce my stress over the change.

I’m easing my way back into training this week. It’s both frustrating to have broken my streak and to feel so weak again after a couple bad weeks. It’s taken six months to feel a little stronger and so little time to feel like I’m back at the beginning. I know I’m not, but the first pushups and planks back are

Year 5, Day 304: What a frustrating day. I could feel the virus getting the better of me so I had to work from bed. Increasing chaos with several upcoming transitions at work means more of my attention is spent on answering questions (ohhhhh I hate questions!) than working. An hour of calls, and an hour and a half at the orthodontist, and no lunch. I was at the end of my tether by 530 pm by which point I had to figure out what to feed people. I didn’t try very hard. It was quick cheese pasta from Costco, pasta sauce, and mini corn dogs alongside bell peppers and carrots.

What is it with kids? I hollered for JB while I was trying to get dinner on the table and they just yelled “YES??” back. Get your young behind out here where I can actually talk to you. By the time they dragged their tardy butt out to the kitchen my patience had snapped. Is it too much to ask them to use their legs, blessed with the energy of healthy youth, to travel the less than 50 feet to the room where I am doing three things at once to hear me out? ARGH. I have told them both that I had better hear the running of feet when I call their names from now on, do not make me call you twice. The “or else” is unspoken but very loud nonetheless.

Bedtime was another six rounds of nonsense. PiC is as overworked as I am so he keeps falling asleep in the middle of reading to Smol Acrobat (I don’t blame him, I’d be falling asleep everywhere too, I just suffer from insomnia/painsomnia so I can’t. Almost wish I could). Smol Acrobat then escapes containment to come find me and reports “Daddy fell asweep”. Last night, JB was enabling the escapee by cuddling and offering to read to them, tonight they offered a session of calming stretches. NGH. GO TO BED. I chivvied two into bed and one out of bed (he said he had too much work tonight to sleep early) and set myself back up in my bed desk.

Year 5, Day 305: It’s a takeout sort of day, crammed with meetings and running around, but I’m drawing a total blank on what to get. Also, my throat is killing me. I was optimistic and worked at my desk today for the first time all week but that was a bad call. It ate up too much energy. Or maybe falling sick was using up all the energy and it wouldn’t have mattered? Hard to say! Back to bed for me tomorrow. Tonight all I can do is try to get as much work done as possible before dinner and not work late again.

Instead I ruminate on hypernormalization and the feeling that our democracy, flawed and broken as it was, is completely going away. We have to keep taking the kids to school, to their activities, feeding and caring for them as normal. We have to keep up the house, put gas in the car, menu plan or get food on the table one way or another. We can’t just stop.

And from a money perspective, I’m worried because I have no idea what to do. I am working my tail off to keep my job and keep my income for however long that can last – we need the income to pay our bills, my staff needs their income to pay their bills. Even as things are falling to a shambles, we need to pay the rent and put food on the table.

But it also feels like I should prepare for disasters that I’ve never contemplated before – like the FDIC being dismantled and US banking systems failing. I’m contemplating moving some emergency money to an overseas bank (TBD) so that we’re not completely destitute if this attack on our entire country and every institution wrecks our finances.

Thing is, I am also under no illusions about there being any easy escape from this country if things go that deeply wrong. There is no safe haven. Canada doesn’t want us. Mexico doesn’t either, I’m sure. We’ve been awful. There is no country that isn’t racist, sexist, that isn’t prone to right wing hardliners and Nazis. We stand and we fight, we help others who are less fortunate – that’s our first response. We yell at our representatives to do something and we take care of our communities and the most vulnerable.

But I am not me if I don’t plan for multiple contingencies. It’s just never been less clear what roadmap or hierarchy of contingencies begin to make sense in all of this.

Year 5, Day 306: I’m deep in the hiring slog and was struck by a memory. When I was new to one of my first four year jobs, the office manager called me into the office. She told me that my brother had applied, could I work with him? She wouldn’t consider him if I said no. I was taken aback and felt the NO! well up from practically my toes. I could NOT work with him. I knew what he was like – flaky, bombastic, thought he knew better than everyone. It shamed me to my core to think of being associated with him at my workplace, where I was earning the money that paid our rent and for my school, and the idea of that livelihood being threatened near about choked me.

She didn’t call him back and we averted what seemed in the moment to be a potential crisis. I worked so many hours there that I paid for my entire college education and continued to pay the rent and all our bills. I agonized over that decision here, even. And it hit me all over again today: Was I wrong? Could that have been the stabilizing influence, the chance that he needed, to get himself on a path that would have led him through his dark moments? Or would he have done what he always did and screw it up somehow, only to take me down with him?

I don’t know. I don’t know why it bit at me today.

On a lighter note, PiC did the Costco run so we have provisions again and we have survived the week that kept kicking me in the shins. I’ve been getting sicker all week and will need the whole weekend to try to not get worse. Getting better is a whole other ask and may require the symbolic sacrifice of something.

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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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