I’ve never hated hand sanitizer more.
My mental health has been contaminated by the pandemic. In my head, everything is “covid.” Did you try the new covid oranges? Would you like covids with that? Look Hawken, that covid tree is covering the ground with covids. The covids are in bloom this time of year. Who’s hogging all the covid sauce? That’s a lovely covid you have on. Is that a covid in your pants, or are you just glad to see me?
Journal, March 16, 2020: What happens to a population under stress? The world implodes under the inevitability of its arrogance, its greed, its ignorance, its pride. Institution like public school, air travel, sporting events, and tourism wither in ghostly retreat because they considered themselves untouchable. No one is untouchable.
Journal, March 31, 2020: Something inside me doesn’t trust the reality of this situation. Simulation? Biowarfare? Invasion? Alien invasion?
Journal, April 11, 2020: I got my seeds in the ground today. Tend them when I am gone.
Journal, April 13, 2020: If you don’t come out of this crisis stronger and more grateful, maybe you don’t deserve to come out of it at all.
I am close to madness because my hair is getting so long.
Ann’s aunt. Stephanie’s uncle. Dr. Taylor’s husband, but he lived. The custodian upstairs.
On the plus side, I drank a corona yesterday. But I had no covids to go with it.
My wife is having “pandemic dreams”. It’s apparently a widespread phenomenon.