Three years on, and I'm still kickin'!
I think I might be dusting off the ol' blog again for real this time. We'll just see about that I guess. Twitter (or pardon me, "X," as its new owner has just renamed it. Insert eyeroll here) is a bit of a dumpster fire these days, and though I've an account on Mastodon now, it doesn't feel the same. Twitter (nope, sorry, not calling it X) hasn't felt like home for a long time, but I'm still there, mainly because there are still people I like there that I can't connect to anywhere else. But I think I need to go back to long-form writing for a bit. If I can maintain the attention span long enough to finish a post, that is.
There, let's talk about that for a moment. I cannot hold a thought for very long anymore, and often things get knocked clean out of my head. I know part of it probably has to do with my age. I will be halfway to sixty in about a week. I also get emotional really quickly -- some stranger's pet's cancer update will set me sobbing. My old supervisor treated me with the same level of discourtesy she always uses and instead of letting it roll off my back the way I usually do, I got so furious that I scared myself a little. The upshot is that she didn't get away with her BS that time (because I went up the chain of command and she got called on it), but I'm glad I don't get trusted with something like the nuclear codes, because boy howdy, there'd be a smoking crater where her house used to be. It was probably just an accumulation of all the crap I've taken from her over the years that made something in me rise up and roar, "¡Ya basta!" but still. Oof.
I don't think it's all age and hormones, though. I think perhaps it has something to do with being in year four of an international pandemic with no end in sight that has taken its toll on me. I don't go much of anywhere anymore, except to work, and even that's only 3 days a week. The other two days, I work from home. Even a trip to the grocery store requires psyching up for. I am at present in the midst of an internal discussion about a) whether I'm going to the movies for my birthday or not, and b) if so, whether I'll be masking. So far it's looking like a) mmmaaaaybe? and b) stuffing one in my pocket for just-in-case.
And while I'm thinking of it, may I point out how quickly we went from in-the-office to remote work when it was all the abled people that needed it to happen? Disabled folks have to submit paperwork for the accommodations they need to make their work possible but in March of 2020? I was handed a laptop and told, "Here, go home." No fuss, no muss, just, "We'll see you in [what turned out to be] a year and a half."
So. A year and a half on my own, just me and the cat. Except for July 2021, when I took the cat and went to Potter County for a month, working remotely from the place my folks bought with my sister and brother-in-law. It was a good time to do it, I think. My university announced they were opening the offices up in August of 2021, and I (who had become half feral by this point) needed to relearn some socialization skills. Also, it was nice to be around my family again, to see them in the flesh instead of on computer screens.
Caught the Dread COVID at the tail end of August 2022, probably from someone on the bus I use to commute to work (because that's where I'm nearest to other people) and even though I was masked. I've had bronchitis hit me harder. That tells me the inoculations worked. Was still masking everywhere until I'd say...January 2023? I think so. Now I only mask if I have a cough or a scratchy throat or something, mainly to keep my moots to myself. I also have one handy if I suddenly feel anxious about being in a crowd -- on the bus, say, or if I should find myself (just for example) in a crowded movie theater. Or, y'know, if it starts to smell like a burn barrel outside. That's a new wrinkle, right there.
Sophie's still here as well, though we had a health scare this past March that aged me a little bit and cost me a chunk of money. Long story with a lot of gross details so I'll just cut to the chase -- she has high blood pressure and a small heart murmur, as well as arthritis in her lumbar region, and digestive issues to boot (which is what caused the scare). So now she gets a quarter of a pill shoved down her throat daily chased with a squirt of fish oil. Because of course (of course!!) she won't eat her food if I mix fish oil with it. That would be far too accommodating. And the food itself is a prescription diet called "Gastrointestinal Biome," I guess because "This'll Make Your Cat Poop" isn't quite classy enough a title to put on a cat food bag.
Anyway
How the heck is everyone? I hope we're all still alive out there? I am not being at all facetious when I say that. I only found recently that a friend of mine died back in January of 2020. I Googled her father, thinking he might not be with us anymore, and yep, I was right. There was his obituary. And right underneath it was hers. Died "suddenly," which I think is code for COVID, but I don't know for sure. That was early days yet, before lockdown, even. She was definitely in several of the risk groups: overweight, over fifty, with pulmonary issues. She had very, very severe asthsma from childhood onward. Like, wound-up-in-the-hospital-from-attacks severe. And when we were in college we were in a car accident over spring break. When they took us to the hospital and checked us over they detained her because she was having or had just had a heart attack--brought on by the accident, not the other way 'round. She had tried to change lanes and we bounced off the tow truck that had been hiding in her blind spot.
No one told me she'd died. I hadn't been in contact too terribly recently with her or with her next younger sister (with whom I also went to college, and whose wedding I was in), but my contact info hasn't changed in about 15 years. I went crying to my own sister when I saw the obituary, and she said they were probably so wrapped up in their own grief that they forgot to let me know. I accept that explanation, but it still stings a bit. I'm also left wondering what happened to all her animals. She had at least one sheltie, two cats, and a flock of chickens. Where are they now? I hope her sisters found room in their homes for them, at least the dog and the cats. I imagine they could probably give the chickens to any farm that wanted them.
Well, that's about it for now, I think. Lunch break is over, and I've been playing around with this post for over a week now. Time to hit the Publish button and go back to work. Also need to weed out the reading list so that it only contains authors who've been active in the past couple of years. Except for Reckless Sarcasm coz that's my sister, and Peanut Butter and Bacon Sandwiches because she's a friend from high school, and dang it, I'm keeping that one up.
Hope you are all well! Type at you soon.
