Wed. July 8, 2020: Die For Tourist Dollars Day 51 — A Little More Upbeat

Wednesday, July 8, 2020
Waning Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Saturn Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Hazy and cool

It’s Wednesday, which means Remote Chat later on. Very excited.

There’s also a new post on Ink-Dipped Advice, about red flags in job ads.

Yesterday seems like a very long time ago. I was up early (nothing new there). Did some writing, did some client work.

I had the best time recording the podcast with Ari Meghlen and Rachel Poli for The Merry Writer Podcast. We had so much fun. We talked for nearly an hour, which means they have plenty to edit down to the 20 minutes!

After that, I had to dash out to Trader Joe’s, because we were getting low on some basics. Everyone was masked, although ignoring the flow of traffic inside the store. The line was short. The entire plaza is now open for business, and there were plenty of Sliding Mask Skanks sashaying around, touching things, wearing masks down around their necks and being tourist assholes. The TJ staff was great about telling them to either mask up or move farther away from the line.

Anyway, I was in and out in 20 minutes, almost like the old days.

Full disinfectant protocols when I got home, played with some client work (I’m working on a new ad for this one).

I got an email from Titcomb’s Bookshop that my books arrived. It was a nice day, and my mom hasn’t been out of the house since March, except to drive me to the hospital. So we both masked up, and drove over to Sandwich for me to do the curbside pickup. Titcomb’s has everything set up for both customer convenience and the safety of everyone. It’s great.

We drove back, I stopped to put gas in the car, and we drove home past the beach.

Packed. Tourists everywhere. There are some masks, but very few. Most of the tourists don’t even pretend to care. They saunter around, with that air of entitlement. They don’t care if we’re infected.

Hey, I’m avoiding as many tourist areas as possible. I hope every weekend is stormy and they have to sit inside the short term rentals they shouldn’t be in anyway, because they’re not following masking or quarantine protocols.

Oh, and the illegal fireworks are still going on every night.

Anyway, then I had my Zoom call with my primary care physician. I’d been dreading it. It didn’t help that I received 27 reminders in the past week, including a phone call EVERY TEN MINUTES for the hour before the appointment.

I am an adult with a datebook. Stop treating me like I’m too stupid to keep an appointment.

But it was good to talk to her. She is optimistic about the surgery results, and we worked on a path forward for the next six months until the next procedure to check to make sure I’m clear.

I am so excited to read the Vivien Chien noodle shop mysteries – but I have to finish the new Deanna Raybourn book that I’m reading.

No more books to review right now, but I did land an article from the pitch I sent late last week. Will get that done by the end of this week, and get going on the Llewellyn article.

Client work onsite this morning. Then disinfectant protocols, and landing at my own desk for Remote Chat, and then some other work.

The last week and change have been rough on multiple levels, but I’m hoping things start to ease up a bit. I don’t want to tempt the Universe otherwise, but at least I’m starting to feel more like myself.

Have a great Wednesday.

Thurs. July 2, 2020: Die For Tourist Dollars Day 45 — Optimistic With the Work

Thursday, July 2, 2020
Waxing Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Saturn Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Hazy and humid

The latest on the garden is up at Gratitude and Growth (including some pictures). I am so grateful to have that space.

Yesterday was tough. I was up early. Didn’t feel great. Pushed myself to go onsite for a client, and burned out within two hours. I left before anyone else had arrived, leaving a note and what I’d done and was going to do from home. And being upfront with them about what the doctor said, because it could affect them. Not as much as the COVID test potentially could have affected them, but still.

Stopped at CVS on the way home to pick up one of my mother’s prescriptions. My primary care physician’s office called. We set up a Zoom call for next Tuesday afternoon (since I’m doing a podcast interview in the morning). That adds a huge level of stress, instead of removes one, because I’m worried she’s going to want to send me for more tests, and I’m out of emotional resources at this point. Plus, I can’t keep taking off work. I need to earn a living.

Home, disinfectant protocols, back to my desk, shaky as I was. But I’d rather be shaky at home, where I can lie down when I need to, then somewhere I can’t.

A couple more hours for the client. She approved the ads I did, so I’m going to start running them.

Remote Chat was fun, as it always is, but I was suffering from Anesthesia Brain, was fuzzy-headed, and misread some stuff badly.

Attending a virtual conference on freelance writing, The Freelance Writing Success Summit.The SEO training session was useful. It gave me some ideas how to up the game for this one particular client. Well, I can apply the concepts to all my clients, but I got some solid ideas to help one in particular.

I attended several sessions, and got a lot out of it. Will attend more today and tomorrow. Shoutout to Michelle Garrett, who hosts the Freelance Chat every Thursday, and told me about it.

Then, I switched over to Miracles of Human Language and finished watching the videos for the week. Absolutely fascinating. I printed out the reading, and will do that later this afternoon. This class helps me in the artificial languages or dialects that I create for built worlds, and will help me as I go back to study languages and get my French back up to speed, and, hopefully, add in a few more languages. I refuse the idea that I’m too old to learn new languages.

I just have to work harder.

The native speakers who are part of the teaching modules (called “informants”), showing us different uses of languages and dialect, all seem to speak at least four languages. I wish the US emphasized being multi-lingual, instead of having languages as electives. We should all speak, at minimum, English, French, and Spanish here. One of the informants is a Turkish woman who also speaks French, Dutch, English, and Japanese in addition to her native Turkish. I love the excitement about learning languages that all these informants demonstrate.

A couple of interesting playwriting opportunities crossed my desk, via Women in Media Arts. I wonder if I can spin anything out quickly enough and well enough for these companies? I will let ideas percolate.

Also got my 2022 contract fromLlewellyn. My piece is due in early September, so I will get to work on it next week. I’d like to get it to my editor sometime in August.

The contract cheered me up quite a bit. I was feeling rather in despair. The state of the country, in relation to the pandemic, the treason the highest elected officials are committing daily for personal profit, and the economy all weigh heavily on me.

I decided I’m not doing the Target run until next week. There’s too much traffic, too many germy Maskless Morons and Sliding Mask Skanks out there.

Bill paying today. Plus, I’m going to run in to the office for a client so that I can put out the first of the ads – the financial information is at the office, not with me.

I’ll do some more work for that client later today, then do my reading for the class and take my end-of-week quiz.

I intend to take tomorrow as the start of the holiday weekend. I need to work on the basement and in the yard, plus fix BARD’S LAMENT and read my book for review.

It’s the right kind of busy, and I hope that will improve my outlook. Because I’m struggling, and only part of it is because I’m taking longer than I’d like to come back physically from the surgery.

Have a great day, friends!

Tues. June 30, 2020: Die For Your Employer/Die For Tourist Dollars Day 43 — Surgery with Mixed Results

Tuesday, June 30. 2020
Waxing Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Saturn Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Foggy, stormy, humid

Venus went direct on the 25th, so at least a little pressure has eased.

I thought I’d scheduled a post yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t.

I was on a clear liquid diet, pre-op, on Wednesday. Miso soup and white cranberry-peach juice for breakfast, chicken broth for lunch, more miso for dinner. It was pretty good.

Went for my COVID test in the morning. Very well organized. A few seconds of discomfort when they jab the swab up your nostrils, but that’s it. Everyone very nice.

Home. Info full quarantine. Checked in with a client, designed some A/B ads, got out an email blast. Participated in Remote Chat, which is always fun.

Got the call from the hospital. My surgery was scheduled for 9:30 the next morning. A relief to get in there in the morning, and home as soon as possible.

The COVID testers only call if it’s a positive. So, once the deadline passed and no call, I started the rest of the prep, which was awful, I had side effects, and I was up all night, miserable.

I got ready in the morning, and got a call at 8 AM, asking me to come in an hour and a half early.

I got there, and was sent to the OR. Um, I knew it was surgery, because they had to remove something, but had been told it would be a simple procedure. Originally, I was told it would be done in the office.

So I was prepped for surgery, much like the last time, and a little thrown by it.

Unfortunately, it took 7 tries to get the IV in. SEVEN. I was upset. I also felt guilty (which, looking back on it, I shouldn’t. It’s not MY fault they can’t hit a vein. But it hurt like hell).

They finally got a pediatrics nurse to get it in.

Then some guy starts yapping at me, and I finally asked, “Are you the doctor?” And then I deliberately mispronounced his name, which threw him.

He said yes and corrected the pronunciation of his name.

I said, “Oh, okay, it’s just that I’ve never met you or talked to you before and you’re about to go digging in my insides. I’ve dealt with more than a dozen people while I’ve been lying here in pre-op and I’m trying to keep them all sorted. Now that we’ve been properly introduced, what’s going on?”

He said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m a little presumptive sometimes” and then we talked about the surgery.

The nurses were howling. They told me later the male patients usually start sputtering and the female patients are often in tears. They never saw anyone stand up to him before.

So we had a chat about what was going on. I was a little disconcerted, because no one seemed to know why I was there. Why didn’t anyone read my chart? I’m not the professional. I’m the patient. I know, in basic strokes, why I’m there, but not the details.

I told the anesthesiologist that, especially after all the trouble getting the IV in, I didn’t want to know anything.

When I came out of it, the doctor said, “You should thank that CT technician. This surgery probably saved your life.”

Turns out it was much more complicated than anyone had told me, and, if I’d blown off this surgery (as I was tempted), by the time I knew something was really wrong, it would have been too late, and needed very complicated surgery.

So now I get to wrap my head around that and worry about the results of the biopsy.

The nurse called my ride, I got dressed, and off I went home.

I was too rattled to really sleep, but I also couldn’t do anything. I’d saved back some of the pain pills from the last surgery. Of course, they were on the list of things I couldn’t take. But I didn’t really need them.

To keep myself occupied, both the miserable night before surgery and the day after, I read the first four books in Martha Wells’sMurderbot series. I loved them. So clever, and funny, and full of action, and full of heart.

We’d set up the living room again for recovery. I ate scrambled eggs for dinner – I hadn’t eaten solid food in 48 hours, but that’s all I could stand.

I went to sleep early, and slept through the night for the first time in who knows how long.

Friday, I got some material off to a client. Heard back that she’s going in a new direction for something. She’s going to try to push me to do work that needs someone with different skills, and there will be problems going forward. So I need to find a replacement client so we can part ways soon without me taking a major hit to my income.

I got out one LOI, and then back to bed.

One of my nurses checked in with me, to make sure I was okay. I am. I mean, I’m healing. “Okay” is relative at this point.

I heard from one of my other doctors, who found out I was having this procedure; he checked in to see how I was doing. He was the one who talked me into going through this second surgery; I wanted to blow it off. But he’d been right about everything else, so I went forward. It’s a good thing I did.

I have the same post-anesthesia effects I had last time – first day or so, I have a runny nose, and then I have a few days of a scratchy throat.

I have to monitor my temperature twice a day for two weeks, to make sure I didn’t catch anything at the hospital.

My arms are so bruised from the failed attempts to insert the IV. I have track marks and bruises. I’ll have to wear long sleeves for at least a week. And I need to heal before I go in for blood work.

I managed to go down to the library for a curbside pickup and got more books. Read Donna Leon’s BY ITS COVER. I love that series.

But it was not a productive day, by any means.

I got in touch with the guy who mows the lawn; he came and did it. It looks better, but I need to put fertilizer on it.

I did not sleep well on Friday. I was up by 3 AM, fretting.

Saturday morning, I moved the two potted trees on either side of the front door to the side. They’ve grown through the years, and don’t look right there any more.

I was working on cleaning out the front beds and found a wasp nest attached to the siding in the front, near the front door. I’m so sick of the damn wasps. It never occurred to me they would build there.

I didn’t want to go back to Hyannis Country Gardens, but I know where everything is there. So I masked up and drove over.

I am never going there again, even once this is all over. Wearing the mask around your neck is not wearing the mask. Staff and customers did this (register staff were the only ones fully masked). The place was packed.

I grabbed my wasp killer (you have no idea how much strength it took not to spray the Sliding Mask Skanks). I grabbed some lawn food. I got the hell out of there as fast as I could.

I felt safer walking alone at 2 AM in NYC’s worst neighborhoods than I felt in that store.

Our numbers are going up again in MA. Not as badly as in down south, but going up enough to be concerned.

Not that anyone else here is. Because, if you’re not rich around here, you’re expendable and expected to Die for Tourist Dollars.

Came home and took out my fury on the wasp nest.

Rested a bit; once the buzzing died down (pun intended), I brought some of the oversized red geraniums from the back to flank the front door. They look good, and it’s good Feng Shui.

I couldn’t work in the beds, so I took myself to bed and rested for a bit. I read Ellen Byron’s PLANTATION SHUDDERS, and loved it. Excellent book, and I’m excited to read the rest of the series.

Soaked in a bath of Himalayan Salts for a bit. Cooked dinner – nothing fancy, I’m easing back in.

So the Sociopath was informed in March that Russia pays bounties to kill American soldiers? And keeps making concessions to Russia? I hope the military turns against him, once and for all. We have a sociopath calling himself “President” who is not only actively killing citizens with a pandemic, but allowing our enemies to kill our soldiers for profit. What’s his cut, I wonder? Because he does nothing without an eye to personal profit.

Why would anyone think the GOP will do anything about it? Remember, only a year ago, over Fourth of July, 10 GOP Congress people traveled to Russia to genuflect.

Those 10 should have been arrested the second they returned. But they got away with it, and here we are.

No wonder the EU is banning Americans from travel. Good for them.

And the airlines who are going to start flying at capacity? I hope they all go under. And why the hell is ANYONE flying right now?

The selfishness and stupidity are overwhelming.

Moved back up to my bedroom by Saturday night, and had a good night’s sleep.

But sat on the deck early Sunday morning, weeping, because I feel overwhelmed on a personal level, and on a broader, societal level. I’m sick, exhausted, and don’t see a way forward in anything.

Rested most of Sunday morning, because that’s all I could handle. I read a delightful book called RAISING THE BARRE by Lauren Kessler, about her journey to dance in a production of THE NUTCRACKER as an adult. So well done, on so many levels. However, I did lose a bit of respect and felt disgust when she skipped part of the tour that was the reason to write this book in the first place because of “family commitments” and because she was teaching a writing workshop. That, hon, is why you’re not in the business. The show comes first. Always. Life fits around theatre (or, in this case ballet) for professionals. Theatre does not fit around life.

That, right there, is why I managed to be one of the 11% who actually MAKE it to Broadway. Commitment and priority to the work. And why dancers can do what they do.

My arms really hurt from the bruising of the failed IV attempts.

Got out 5 LOIs, then sat out on the deck for a bit, reading. Watered the back, where I’d put down lawn food and fertilizer. Couldn’t face another wasp battle in the front.

Tackled the mending, because the light was good, and I need true daylight at this point to sew. Got a good part of the stack done. Still have a few pieces, including socks.

Managed to sleep through the night on Sunday, up early on Monday, normal routine. Because, you know, the cats like a normal routine, and it’s all about the cats. Arms really hurt from the IV bruising.

Annoyed by people on social media who beg for followers, then deride people who support them. I don’t have time for that b.s.

Also annoyed because people are asking to come visit. As in show up and stay a few days. In a pandemic? I don’t think so. Close friends understand it’s not viable. We’re going to make plans to see each other WHEN IT’S SAFE. It’s the borderline “acquaintances” who are the problems. The ones who stay in touch because they see us as free accommodation in a tourist spot they want to visit. I can’t believe how many emails I’ve gotten in the past two weeks that are “oh, we’re going to be in your area on vacation for a few days. We’d love to see you. Can we stay?”

Nope. Not doing any hosting this summer. Sorry you think just because the government decided to recklessly reopen, I’m going to put my life in danger so you don’t have to pay a hotel bill. Not happening.

Absolutely dreaded going in to the client’s on Monday.

Didn’t get a lot done on BARD Monday morning. I had to research mandolins and mandolin making before I could write the scene. Then, when I referenced something from an earlier chapter I found an enormous mistake. I have to go back and fix it, or it will throw the entire book off. I’m so annoyed with myself.

But that’s what I get for not making tracking sheets up front. Serves me right.

Discouraging, but my own damn fault.

Onsite for the client wasn’t bad. Staggered hours, lots of precautions. Only a little overlap, so we’re in synch, and not full staff (the way it should be, but isn’t on Wednesdays).  The client expects me to pull off the type of advertising campaigns that large companies with huge design and advertising budgets do, and she expects huge returns within 48 hours. That’s not realistic. She keeps sending me ads with “do that” — I can’t without design tools and time and professional photographs of product, and a budget to spend for placement.

Came home, wiped out.

I meant to only peek at the online course I’m taking on FutureLearn on The Book of Kells from Trinity College in Dublin. It was so interesting that I went through the entire week’s work. Which was pretty cool.

I decided I should brush up on my rusty Latin, and was looking for a way to do that, when, on Coursera, I stumbled across The Miracle of Human Language, from University of Leiden, where I’d studied the International tribunals a few years back. I signed up and started work on it. It’s fascinating.

That course will help me as I develop languages for books like DRAKECLIFF and other fantasies.

I was still worn out, and ran out of intellectual steam, so I stopped.

I also bought Sharon Hurley Hall’s SHADEISM. We’ve been talking about race, inspired by her most recent writings; this book will not only expand my understanding, but it will be good background for ELLA BY THE BAY.

Then, the phone rang.

It was the doctor.

As I wrote above, that’s never good news. They only call if something is wrong, never when it’s right.

The doctor had even improved his bedside manner, which worried me even more.

The news was mixed: there were some cancerous cells in what was removed, but at the tip of the polyp, not the base, and the cells scraped from the lining were clear. He believes he got it all. Originally, he wanted to see me in a year; now, he wants me back for another procedure In six months (um, Happy Holidays to me?). We’re going to treat it like another full-blown surgery, and hope it’s just a look that reveals everything is clear. He was upbeat and reassuring about it – which meant I wasn’t sure whether to go with it or worry more.

Something else to wrap my head around. Disconcerting, to say the least.

But what else can I do other than keep on keeping on?

I do have to behave as though I’m immune compromised and stay home as much as possible, avoid crowds, socializing, etc. I told him that was the plan for the foreseeable future, anyway.

He promised to take good care of me. I thanked him (which surprised him) and he rang off.

I’m a little tired of 2020 piling it on.

I need to talk with my primary care doctor in the next day or two, and come up with a plan for the next six months. Losing weight and getting fit will have to be a part of it. I already eat pretty well, and I’d cut out most beef and quite a bit of pork out. I will have to continue with that. I’m glad I can cook.

I want to lose 20 pounds, the doctor wanted me to lose 10, we compromised on 15 (which I have not lost), but I think I want to go back to 20. I feel better when I weigh less.

I’d already started up core work again on Sunday, so I will do more of it.

I’d love to walk around the neighborhood, but the clumps of Maskless Wonders make it a non-starter.

Much as I hate the exercise bike, the exercise bike it is. If my 95 year old mother can do 30 minutes a day, 7 days a week, I can work my way up to similar.

But I’m rattled.

Went to bed early; slept through the night.

Up early today. Have to fix BARD today, so I can move forward on it. There’s a deadline looming. Got two rejections on LOIs because they want someone with more experience in the tech sector. Which is understandable, but they SAID they wanted someone to communicate what they do to a more general audience. At least they responded, and I got responses from the companies themselves instead of a third party recruiter.

Client work. I have to come up with a new strategy for a struggling client. I have a few ideas, but I wish I had more time with them, because it’s hard to focus right now.

Classwork for Miracle of Human Languages later, and then maybe purging a few boxes in the basement. I need to get back to that.

I can’t believe it’s almost July. It’s hard not to feel defeated.

Especially when you look at the rampant corruption and stupidity people are getting away with, with absolutely no consequence.

Going back to the page will help. I hope.

Peace, friends.

Fri. June 5, 2020: Die for Your Employer Day 18 – Local Disappointments

Friday, June 5, 2020
Full Moon/Lunar Eclipse
Pluto Retrograde
Saturn Retrograde
Venus Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Cloudy and humid

We sort of skipped spring this year, and are getting right into summer.

I went to Country Gardens yesterday to pick up some plants, and it was not a good experience. I couldn’t find what I wanted, the plants weren’t in particularly good shape (which is unusual; they usually have outstanding plants). But the worst was that too many people were either running around without masks or being Sliding Mask Skanks, with their mask down around their neck.

The older white women were the worst. Masks around the neck, getting into the employees’ faces, playing Lady of the Manor ordering around the serfs.

They should have been kicked out.

The fact that they weren’t means that Country Gardens is putting profit over the health and safety of both employees and customers. So I won’t be back any time soon. Losing my business won’t hurt them; they’re busy enough. But in the next wave, when enough contact tracers find them on the list, maybe it will matter.

Not putting my life in danger to buy a couple of pots of petunias.

I’m all for shopping local over box stores. But when the local businesses practice and advocate what is counter to what I believe is right, I’m not spending money there. Conscientious consumerism means deciding WHICH local businesses get my money. If an artisan in another part of the country walks the talk more in alignment with my beliefs, I will support that individual over someone down the street who’s an ass.

Besides, the petunias looked terrible. And they didn’t have any six packs of small marigolds.

I considered going to Mahoney’s, but wanted to check their hours and policies. As I suspected, they “strongly encourage” a mask, but don’t require it.

Nope. Not going there.

I’ll do without marigolds.

I might try going to Scenic Roots in Sandwich. Supposedly, they are following the protocols, and I’ve always had positive shopping experiences there.

Came home, followed full disinfectant protocols, and then replanted everything I’d bought: basil, lavender, thyme, chives, nasturtiums, a single mortgage lifter tomato plant, parsley. Repotted the tomato seedlings (with the basil). Planted some eggplant seeds and cherry pits. Should have planted more, but by then, I was too damn tired and the morning was gone.

Disinfectant protocols are time consuming.

But it beats the alternative.

Participated in the Freelance Chat, which was fun.

Willa was out in the playpen for the repotting, and she loved it. She had the best time. I took Tessa out in the playpen in the afternoon and she hated it. Cried and cried, upsetting the other two. It was heartbreaking.

She loves to be outside, but we have such a hard time getting her back in that she has to be in the playpen. But she hates the playpen, because she’s used to being able to roam around on the deck. So she can’t go outside for awhile. It makes me sad. But I can’t risk her running away because she’s upset and doesn’t want to come back in.

Finished reading STEELFLOWER by Lilith St. Crow. Loved the world building and the characters. Sad for her (and for us, her readers) that piracy destroyed the series.

The problem with a Lilith St. Crow book is, as you as you sigh in the pleasure of finishing a really good book, the immediate need to read another of her books strikes, or there are withdrawal symptoms.

Plenty of things I should have done yesterday. Didn’t do any of them, so will have to catch up today.

It’s a lunar eclipse during four retrogrades – the only thing I’m doing off property is the curbside pickup for my library book.

There’s plenty that needs to be done in the house, in the yard, and on the computer.

Of course, because I have no time for new ideas, I got a new idea while baking the brandy-currant-sour cream pound cake from the Moosewood recipe. Paranormal romantic comedy/mystery around a haunted bakery. The idea has to get in line, although I’ll make notes.

It’s supposed to be a nice weekend; let’s hope they’re right. Have a good one, in spite of the Sociopathic coward who built a fence around the People’s House.

The new case numbers are going up again in the state, but the powers-that-be are ignoring them and moving forward with reckless re-opening.

Best wishes for a peaceful, healthy weekend.

Published in: on June 5, 2020 at 5:25 am  Comments Off on Fri. June 5, 2020: Die for Your Employer Day 18 – Local Disappointments  
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Thurs. May 28, 2020: Die For Your Employer Day 10 — Why We Need UBI & Relevant Dreams

Thursday, May 28, 2020
Waxing Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Saturn Retrograde
Venus Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Foggy and humid; will be sunny and hot later

The garden is starting to bloom. There’s a post about it here.

Over 100,000 dead in this country and no end in sight. It is horrifying.

Yesterday wasn’t as bad as I expected onsite. There was some passive aggressive mask removal, but my co-worker and I kept ours on, and the third party put hers back on after a bit, when she saw that we weren’t going to budge. I was fully prepared to gather my things and leave, saying I’d come back some other time when no one else was there LIKE WE’RE SUPPOSED TO DO PER STATE DIRECTIVES. But it didn’t come to that.

Got some stuff done. I work better from home. There’s less stress and more productivity.

Came home, stripped down, showered/disinfected. Was too wiped out to move on to other projects in the afternoon. I’d gotten an LOI out early in the morning, before I went in to the client site, for a company I think would be a good match. We’ll see.

Maine is pausing the re-opening Phase 1 and re-thinking Phase 2. No surprise there. My family up there told us how people are coming in for day trips, packing the beaches and parks, refusing to wear masks. Of course the re-open was going to fail.

The numbers Massachusetts releases doesn’t coincide with the reckless behavior I witness every day. Maybe our numbers just haven’t ticked up yet. But I expect that they will.

The traffic is just as bad as it ever is at this time of year. I see people congregating in groups, without masks. I mentioned yesterday the Sliding Mask Skanks that now populate the stores, and how visitors aren’t following the self-quarantine rule when they arrive. Most of them are coming in for the weekend, so they’re not quarantining for 14 days.

And, of course, the incessant whining, “I came all this wa-aay! Why isn’t anything o-PEN?”

Maybe because you’re a fucking dumbass who can’t follow the basic protocols and have no respect for other human beings, and there are those of us who actually live here who don’t want to die.

The lack of leadership here on local levels is appalling. Our Town Council is completely useless.

Come on, Congress. You want the economy to recover? Then give us UBI for the next few months. MANDATE that we work from home when possible. Don’t “suggest.” MANDATE. If an employer refuses, said employer should be fined. If an employee doesn’t want to return to unsafe conditions, then the employee shouldn’t lose unemployment benefits. If we have UBI, we won’t need Unemployment benefits to kick in until after it’s actually SAFE to reopen and we see where businesses stand.

UBI allows people to pay bills, keep a roof over their heads, food on the table, They can work from home whenever possible. They can also buy goods beyond the basic necessities, thereby keeping money in the economy – which paying bills also does. It keeps the money flowing.

The way they’re bailing out corporations? Top executives and stockholders get paid. Employees are laid off or lose benefits for refusing to work in unsafe conditions. How difficult is it to realize that people won’t buy your stuff if they’re dead or if they have no money and can’t even feed themselves?

So set it up so people have money flowing in and can keep it flowing out. Stop letting it get stuck in corporate accounts where it doesn’t help the general economy, but only a small percentage who don’t need the money anywhere.

It is not hard to figure this out.

The reason it’s not happening is that the GOP can’t stand the thought of the general population living in basic human dignity. Since Reagan, their platform has been to move us into a feudal economy with nobles (them) and serfs (the rest of us).

What they refuse to accept is that if we’re all dead, there’s no one to sustain their lifestyle or their egos.

The self-centered stupidity is almost as appalling as the inhumanity.

Switching gears to something more positive, it was nice to sit on the deck and read in the afternoon, in the sunshine, with a breeze and a martini at my elbow. We’d be mostly home during tourist season anyway. It’s not like it’s worth going anywhere when they swarm like locusts. When they’re swarming like infected, germy locusts, I’m REALLY not going out amongst them any more than necessary.

I’m reading Edward Ellis’s DIARY OF A CENTURY, which is absolutely delightful. He’s a newspaperman who kept a diary from 1927 on (this book came out in 1995). What I love about him is that he’s interested in everything. He likes to live life, think a lot, and he writes beautifully about it. A joyful book, even during difficult times.

Forced myself out of a nightmare that is relevant. I was in a car (not necessarily my car, but A car) at a busy intersection. Ahead of me was a split road, one was the way I could go, the other was one way against me, with a guardrail in the middle, and high rocks on either side. As I waited for the light to change so I could cross the intersection, it got so dark, I couldn’t see. The headlights didn’t work. I somehow had to get across the intersection and navigate the road ahead completely blind. I could hear and feel traffic around me, but I couldn’t SEE anything. It was terrifying.

I forced myself awake before I hit anything.

It was around 3 AM and I fretted until I got up around 5.

I guess sleeping through the night was only a few nights’ worth of bliss, and we’re back to being up in the middle of the night worrying.

Up early, got some writing done, and blogging.

About to gear up and  load the car with the recycling and take in the first load when they open this morning. Hopefully it won’t be too crowded, but I wouldn’t count on it. Then I have to brave Trader Joe’s for the regular grocery shop. Hopefully, there won’t be any Sliding Mask Skanks there, and it won’t be too crowded and awful.

I have to put in a few hours this afternoon for a client, but I’m doing it from home. And maybe get out a few more LOIs.

I’m hoping to get another stack of boxes purged/unpacked/cleared out this weekend.

The cat playpen should arrive today, so I can take Tessa safely out on the deck, and maybe Willa, too (not at the same time, though. Not yet). It means putting the flea and tick medicine on all of them today. Won’t that be fun? Yes, that was sarcasm.

Have a great day, and I hope you don’t die for your employer.