As I wait for the West Coast to wake up I am sitting here in the quiet trying to remind myself that all of this is real, that all of this is happening, and that despite the news yesterday all will be okay.
In 24 hours my best friend got COVID and the Clyde was sent to the hospital. Both of them will likely be fine, yet it was a reminder that the next time something like this happens I am going to be 3000 miles away.
The bestie is vaccinated, so despite her auto immune issues she is going to be fine. At least she is so far. The cough is ugly but she doesn’t have much of the other symptoms we’ve heard about that have taken just about a million American lives so far.
Clyde is bowel blocked again. He had to wait a whole day to get a bed because the hospital is over run with COVID patients. I get angry as I type this thinking about the idiots who are yelling natural immunity and refusing to mask up. My boy should have been able to be in a bed and rest but these selfish motherfuckers are putting staff at their limits while those who are responsible have to wait. There is a part of me who tries to walk through this life with understanding and love. She goes right out the window in moments like this where someone that I love has to suffer for the poor choices of everyone else.
I don’t want to mask up either. Have you any idea how much red lipstick is going to waste? I want to be able to say no to going out with people [because I am still not a people person], I want that option to say no I am not going to hang out with you all.
I’d love to do in person karaoke again. Thanksgiving reminded me how much I miss that and why it won’t happen because – people sharing microphones unmasked = ewww.
My best friend and my kid are going to be okay. They are some of the toughest people I know.
I am kinda tough as well.
I bought some sage for the new space. I’ve never done it before, but I’ve been around when it was done. I will never stop internally chuckling that the last time I was in a space that was saged the person doing it was always the one to leave the space.
The complex sent a welcome letter, and there is one more step before Monday. Just one more step until that address I’ve been looking at via Google is my actual address. It’s a ground floor apartment and off the main. On the other side are lots of houses. It looks quiet and safe. For other reasons the parking lot is off the grid in the sense that it is not seen much from the street.
It’s pretty much a straight shot to the ferry for when I have to go into the city. It’s a great location, only one other location would be better but that is not on the table until April at the earliest, and even then who knows.
Transporting my things is turning out to be a separate nightmare. I can only imagine the stress if I were moving the whole house. Instead though, those bins I’ve carted from place to place will suffice.
There is a private patio off the bedroom.
I am ready to go ‘home’ even though this is scary as fuck.