Today is the first day of "vacation." Basically, I'm doing the same thing I do every day, just not checking my work email. There is construction being done on my street because of course, god forbid I should be able to enjoy even a day of peace instead of having literal jackhammers right outside my front door. Just hands down the worst year ever.
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The day finally came when gyms were reopened in New Jersey. Technically, they can reopen on Tuesday (Sept. 1), but I have been dreading this day for a while. To my gym's credit, it had suspended dues while it was closed and even provided free online classes (which I have been doing regularly). But now that it is reopening, I had to make the difficult decision to cancel my membership because I am still not comfortable being a gym, which from everything I've read, poses one of the higher risks of infection, and specifically, for people (like me) who go primarily for group classes.
It was difficult because aside from work (which I am doing remotely), the gym is my one steady source of human interaction and I am reluctant to give it up, but the risk is simply not worth it for me. Short of having instant COVID testing at the front door, I don't think I can go back to a gym until a reputable vaccine is available. So, for now, I signed up for LES MILLS ON DEMAND, which is the branded exercise program used at the gym. It's cheap, like $10 a month, compared to the $70 a month I was paying at my gym, so that will be nice. It is not ideal, but it allows me to keep fit and safe, so I am doing it.
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You know what I find really relaxing lately? Watching QVC. I don't buy anything, I just sort of let it wash over me (particularly "In the Kitchen with David"). It is like visual muzak.
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I'm on "vacation" next week, which is just a glorified way of saying I'll be doing the same thing I do ever day, just without the responsibility of checking and answering email and dealing with clients.
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I don't really have anything to say today. I'm just exhausted. Exhausted from a long, hot summer. Exhausted from being on quarantine since April. Exhausted by what I read in the paper and see on my TV. Just done.
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Ghost appears to be doing better. It sounded like he was going to do something during dinner last night, but it passed. I'm still a little worried about him. His peeing is back to normal and he pooped last night too, so I think those are good signs.
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Yesterday was not a good day. For one, it was like 92 degrees, which is just SO tired at this point. I think we've had something like 40 days above 90 degrees this year, more than double the average. If that was not bad enough, there was construction on my street, so hours of jackhammering made it almost impossible to think straight. And then, just because hey, someone wants to see how much shit I can take in one day, Ghost barfed up his dinner (and a chunky hairball). My sweet Ghost, I spent a lot of time with him afterwards, rubbing his belly and scratching that little spot behind his ear he finds so irresistible. He drank some water and seemed to be ok (he slept on the bed with me). This morning, he did not pee, which was ... not great. I was ready to take him to the emergency room but he finally went after I gave him a little extra food around lunch time. Hopefully, he's all better.
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When your iTunes library has more than 11,000 songs, it can be easy to forget a CD's worth of music your ex-girlfriend gave you but you forgot to remove. Music is a funny thing. You can be bopping along to some random version of Franklin's Tower and then, the electronic jukebox shuffles over to a song from The Head and The Heart and you are back in 2013, hopeful, happy, and washed over in nostalgia for a time that never truly was. And you remind yourself to remove that music but you just can't bring yourself to do it.
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It took more than five months, but it finally happened. The woman I was casually seeing before the pandemic hit and then ghosted me when I refused to take her grocery shopping way back in March when COVID was decimating New Jersey (she had other options and I was not risking my health for someone I had been out with four times SORRY) got in touch last night. Was it to see how I was doing or apologizing? No. There was not even a perfunctory acknowledgment of either, just a straight to the point request for my help b/c she is having an issue with her landlord (she is a PhD student at a school I won't name in NJ and is renting an apartment). I mulled over that text for a while, contemplating options - 1) politely refuse to help; 2) tell her to fuck off; or 3) ignore. I chose "3." Deleted the text and forgot about it (and her).
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I worked out for the second day in a row. A good sign. If I'm going to die of some freak stroke or heart attack, at least I will be in good shape when the ambulance comes ...
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Today, I was confronted with an issue that I really struggle with - which is standing up for myself. The context was in regards to taking a vacation, which isn't really a thing now b/c I never leave my house, but regardless, I had requested time off before Labor Day. Subsequent to my request, I was assigned to work on a new case with a couple of other lawyers in the office. I almost had to apologize to the managing partner in letting him know I had put in the vacation request and that I wanted to take it even though this case is new and needs attention. I hate that everyone else just puts themselves first, takes their time, and does not think twice about it, and here I am not only feeling guilty for taking the time but assuring others I won't actually take the time b/c I will monitor email and sit on calls so it won't actually feel like I am not there. Grrrrr
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I stayed up late last night watching the Democratic National Convention. It was oddly compelling. Without the fanfare and crowds, the tendency of camera people to look for crowd reaction shots and speakers to drone on, it forces the viewer to simply focus on the words being said. Make America Decent Again with a side of next generation leaders and everyday Americans speaking to the best of who we are. To be sure, there was a nostalgic streak, but as Don Draper famously said, nostalgia is delicate, but potent. At a time when we're barely keeping our heads above water, it's not such a bad thing to remind us that we are better than this, that we can do this, that, as Biden often says, (paraphrasing) betting against America is a losing bet. I don't know. The realpolitik of what happens in DC in 2020 is not the gauzy, soft lens bipartisanship of the 1970s and 1980s, but this is who Biden is, this is what he believes. Reporters claim they (and we) want authenticity in our politicians. Well, featuring a bunch of septuagenarians like Chuck Hagel and Colin Powell, John Kerry and Cindy McCain, all testifying to Biden's decency, decision making, and character is not intended to get the Tik Tok generation fired up. It is not fodder for the online social media discussion. It is directed at reliable voters (seniors) who, if they swing to Biden's camp, sink Trump's battleship. Having Jill Biden speak to parents' fears while connecting the losses we have experienced as a nation to the ones Biden experienced in his personal life tell us that this guy will be the calming presence, the stable core, the steady hand, that guides the ship of state. In the action and reaction between hope and change and build the wall, maybe that is what we need right now.
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Having a combination of anxiety and PTSD is a great way to go through life if you want to constantly think that any and every minor ailment, pain, and ache is going to kill you.
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The start of another work week. Another day of random physical maladies wondering if any of them will be terminal, so that's fun.
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I slept until like 6:30 this morning, it was pretty glorious (although I did wake up at about 2:30 and it probably took me about an hour to fall back asleep). I also worked out for the first time since Monday - a good sign.
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Today is Saturday. Weather is not too warm and I am feeling well, just ok. I guess that's a win these days ..
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So ... my COVID test came back negative. I was surprised and unsurprised. Surprised in that I definitely have symptoms consistent with COVID but unsurprised because now I am convinced I did not self-administer the test properly (did not get the q-tip far enough up my nose?) Anyway, I am going to take a second test early next week. Now that I know the procedures, I will be less anxious about the whole thing and hopefully do it right. If that test comes back negative, I will have a bit more peace of mind. But hey, shouts to NJ, a free test that provided results in 2.5 days is not great, but not awful either.
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I am still here. I woke up feeling like shit (groggy/dizzy) and rallied a little as the day wore on, but definitely not myself. I have no idea how I am going to survive another 6 months in quarantine.
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I took a COVID test yesterday. I felt it was the right thing to do in light of my symptoms. To New Jersey's credit, the process was remarkably easy. I went to the state's website and it directed me to several different testing locations near me. I clicked on a link for one of the pharmacies, took about 1 minute to fill out a basic questionnaire, and selected a time for my appointment. About 30 minutes later (yes, that quickly), I was parked outside the pharmacy. I called from my car, a technician came out and handed me a simple testing packet that included my voucher (which had my name and DOB), a testing vial with some liquid in it, and a long Q-tip. The instructions for self-testing were sent to me via a text link to my phone. I took the Q-tip out of its wrapper, shoved up each of my nostrils, and then inserted it, swab-side first, into the vial, snapping off the excess part of the shaft and sealing the bag. I called the pharmacy back, the technician came outside with a box and I dropped the kit into it. I was in and out of the parking lot in 5 minutes. No hours-long lines, no workers in PPE, very smooth and very simple (and free!). My one concern was human error - relying on lay people who are not medical professionals to self-test. Like, did I shove the Q-tip far enough up my nose? The instructions said 3/4 of an inch, but that is a hard distance to measure when you're doing something like that. Oh well. I am supposed to get my results back in 3-5 business days, which is not great, but better than nothing.
I am feeling a little better, certainly better than I did overnight Monday into Tuesday. I'm still a little dizzy and "low energy" (I did struggle a bit to get through a conference call yesterday), and so I have gone through several different emotions, perhaps not unlike the five stages of grief. Assuming I do have COVID, I do marvel at its ability to transmit, because I never leave the house to do anything other than grocery shop. How I could have contracted COVID in those 10-15 minutes, twice a week, is impressive, but also (obviously) annoys me as I have done all the right things and appear to have still caught the virus. I also think about risk - if you stay home almost all the time, your risk of contracting the virus is very low, which makes all of the negative outcomes from catching it moot, but if I do have it, now I suddenly drift into the roughly 1 in 100 chance that something really bad happens. Thankfully, I do not have co morbidities that put me at greater risk, and assuming I did catch it in the grocery store, my exposure was brief and I was masked, which has been shown to reduce the amount of virus you take in.
There would also be some piece of mind (weirdly) in having been infected. At least I know I have it. At least I know if things go south with my health, I have some lead time to plan and get in touch with an emergency contact to take care of P and G. And, if things don't go really south, and I sort of muscle through a mild (or even bad, but not have-to-be-hospitalized bad) case, the other side is less fraught. That is, although I would of course remain vigilant in terms of my social interactions and how often I am out and about, I will have developed antibodies that likely protect me from another infection. All things being equal, I would prefer to have not been infected, but if I am, the odds are still in my favor. I will keep you posted.
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How was your night? Mine was truly awful. I woke up in a sweat and feeling dizzy at about 1 am. I was really unsteady, but I managed to get out of bed, flip the a/c on, and plop down on the couch. I spent the next two hours basically immobile, restless, and occasionally shivering, sure that I had somehow contracted coronavirus even though I literally never leave the house to do anything other than grocery shop and when I do, I wear a mask and gloves. I toggled through the worst case scenarios, mentally thinking through what person I would inconvenience by asking them to take care of P and G if I had to go to the hospital and just tried to quiet my mind otherwise.
I drifted off about 3 am and slept for about 90 minutes. When I woke up, I felt a little better (well enough to clean the litter boxes, though still not moving very fast) and managed to get the cats fed. I have not lost my sense of taste (I did choke down breakfast), I do not have shortness of breath, and I felt steady enough to go to the grocery store this morning for a previously planned shop, but ugh, it just is not great. I am going to monitor myself today and see how I feel (the worked out yesterday morning without incident). There are a couple of places that do COVID testing near me, so I may get checked if I don't feel better. Fingers crossed.
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Today is the anniversary of Jerry's passing. I can still tell you exactly where I was when I heard the news. I was interning at the White House that summer, sitting at my desk in the Deputy Chief of Staff's office when one of my friends called. "Have you heard the news?" "What?" "Jerry died." This was back in the day when the internet was barely a thing and well before smart phones were even a twinkle in Steve Jobs's eye. It was such a dagger. It is hard to explain to people why someone's death who you've never met can affect you so profoundly, but Jerry was this larger than life figure but also painfully human. His passing, without it being too cliche, was also the death of a certain innocence, of youth and the promise of the future. The world is just a worse place without him here.
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I dwell a lot on my age because, dear reader, I do not expect to make it to 60, maybe not even 55. I have what they call "bad genes" - my dad and grandfather (on my mother's side) both died at 52 of strokes, so I have it pretty much hard wired into my mind that I'm on borrowed time. In fact, one of the reasons I work out so much is because I am actively trying to avoid that fate (the other reason - not looking awful naked in case anyone was interested seems to be pointless considering there is a pandemic going on, I am not meeting anyone, and was not dating much (or having sex) before it started).
Anyway, you would think having an expiration date like this would make me embrace life, but the reality is that as I have aged, my world has shrunk. Again, even before the pandemic, I rarely went out anywhere other than the gym and the library, I have no social life, and zero self-esteem. So, while part of me envisions a lengthy retirement in Arizona, photographing mesas, bike riding, and driving around in a convertible, the more likely outcome is I die sometime before 2025 and decompose for a few days before anyone realizes I am dead.
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There is no question I have talked to my cats more since, oh, let's say April 1st, than any one human being. It is not that social isolation is wearing on me, there are days it does, others, I do not, it is just that the two places I relied on interaction - my office and my gym - have both been shuttered for the last 4 months or so and so I have been essentially left to my own devices. I do not worry about the long haul, I am pretty sure I can do this well into 2021, but I would like to get laid at some point, which does not appear to be in the cards until well past I turn 50. Hope there's still lead in the pencil at that point ...
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