Again, I had a little bit of a sleep-in because it was the weekend. I admit, I seemed to sleep better than I normally do, although I’m not sure why. It seems to me that sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to it.
New Zealand’s COVID-19 pandemic numbers shot up by another approximate 85 people today, after around the same number yesterday. I think it was a few less today, and both days there were presumptive cases tossed into the final positive numbers. We’re encroaching on 500 people infected with COVID-19, and the curve is steepening quickly. (The good news is, we now have 50 fully-recovered people.)
We need to expect this. That’s what The Powers That Be tell us. We’ll have thousands of cases before, hopefully, if everything goes right, the cases will drop again.
Part of me believes them.
Part of me feels this is one huge con job, a fudging of the numbers.
We’re hearing of cases here, and all over the world, in fact, where people who are presenting symptoms aren’t being tested because, well, square peg doesn’t fit into round hole.
Ridiculous, actually. Just fucking test everyone!
I worked this morning and part of this afternoon to correct some issues we had with the Moodle site I set up for The Place Where I Work. It wasn’t appearing on mobile devices as perfectly as I wanted, so I fiddled with it until it did. Just the way I roll.
My husband and I took a nice, long stroll through the neighborhood today. Lots of people seemed to be out and about. The streets had very little traffic on them, which was a change. Our local supermarket had put instructions and tape down outside to ensure a smooth, steady flow inside while maintaining social distancing. Yet, no one was queuing outside. So demand seemed to be lower than usual.
The wind was quite bitter, but we walked anyway. We got home, and I was pissed off my Apple Watch only recorded half the walk. But then again, I’m used to that lately. At least the walk blew away some of the mental cobwebs.
I texted a bit with my brother and sister-in-law, so that was nice. Part of me wanted to FaceTime, but the rest of me felt I’d be a nuisance if I did so. So I was content on texting and keeping it at that.
One of my high school friends and I exchanged a bit about how we each changed each other for the better in high school. She asked me about coming out — she missed that phase of my life — and it brought up old wounds in explaining it. She deserves to know the truth, and I gave it to her as succinctly as I could, but it still reopened some old wounds, which seem to bleed more with the pandemic lockdowns we’re going through right now. I’m glad we are reconnecting, and I’m fine to explain to someone who wasn’t around to experience it.
A confession: I’ve reached out to The Man I Once Loved to check-in to see if he and his loved ones are okay, and I’ve reopened a dialogue with him. Part of me is thankful he is responding sometimes. The rest of me feels turmoil and care and fear and a jumble of other emotions. But, we have been talking again, more or less, over the last few days. I guess a pandemic will do that to you.
This evening, I went into a darker mood again. The past seems so much more vibrant and exciting and safer than the present. The last decade has been dominated by earthquakes, and aftershocks, and depression, and depersonalization, and a terrorist attack, and now a pandemic. It’s more than enough. I’m struggling to handle it, because it’s more than enough.
Maybe a good night’s sleep will help. Maybe not. But it’s something I need to work through and try to adjust to and roll with until life becomes a little bit more normal again.
Beam Me Up, Scotty 