During the AIDS crisis, we gay men were told that to have unprotected sex with someone was to have sex with everyone with whom one’s partner had had unprotected sex. It seems to me that during this crisis, therefore, to interact with someone socially is to interact with everyone with whom they’ve been proximate for the previous two weeks.
In populations where there is a considerable rate of infection, to be social with anyone, even one’s family, seems risky.
When I first put on my mask to go into the post office and stores yesterday, I felt awkward and embarrassed. I felt like I was saying to everyone: “I don’t trust you.” But now I feel comfortable wearing it.
Some days go by slowly. Yesterday flew by. I went into the village, as I mentioned yesterday, and that took up some time. Then I made some sauces to use over time with pasta and I walked Her Highness with Anna, together but apart.
And while I was in the village, I tried to get my cellphone to work. It wouldn’t. I spent ninety minutes online trying to get it going and another forty minutes on the phone with technical support. Fido has “escalated” my account in hopes of getting my phone to work, otherwise I will cancel the account and save forty-five dollars monthly. It was their recommendation I cancel the service if they cannot make it work through escalating.
I was never a cellphone person until I started having Asthma attacks and now my Asthma is in control and my mental health is good, so I’m fine with going back to being cell-less. It’s of no concern to me to do so.
Thank God for good writers and good storytellers. I’m thrilled by my love of reading; it’s terribly practical during this crisis. And I’m so, so happy reading fiction.
After I got my degree in English Lit, I abandon fiction and became virtually addicted to non-fiction and my addiction lasted decades. One winter, when I was working at Emily Carr University, I remember discovering I could avoid parties without lying by saying to people: “Thanks you for inviting me (said sincerely and enthusiastically), but unfortunately, I have plans for that day/evening.”
And I stayed home to read fourteen books in sixteen days. Yes, a couple were short. All of them were personal stories about aphasia because I was having trouble with my voice and because of their revelatory beauty about the love and compassion of the devoted caring of friends, family and lovers of the afflicted. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly was a favourite.
And now, because guests are likely not coming until some time , I moved my chaise longue to right in front of the fire so I can be jolly warm as I read, and I moved my best reading lamp to serve me well as I recline on it. It’s a configuration I would never have were guests likely to drop in but it’s ideal for life alone.
And I ordered more books from Amazon. We’re in for endless rain for a while and it’s still rather cool, so I’d much rather read than work in the yard right now.
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