This is going well so far.
A plague of locusts and I’m going to have to darken the doorstep of a church.
Somewhere between the bush fires and the Coronavirus I stopped sleeping, even the small amount I usually get. I don’t think it had anything to do with either, it was more just the icing on the dirt cake that 2020 seems determined to be.
I went to a new doctor, who was initially very dismissive until I yelled, “I don’t like your bedside manner!” while wondering if that was applicable in a room without a bed.
What happened in the room stays in the room, but over her figurine of a cute cow holding a sign saying, “I’m not fat, I’m fluffy!”, she and I reached an understanding and since then she’s been very proactive in pushing me in the direction of various specialists and after a day spent drooling from the aftermath of my first encounter with Restavit, I’ve discovered half a tablet doesn’t put me to sleep, but once I fight my way there, it does keep me asleep.
While this was being sorted, I decided to try reading a book every time I found myself lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling and it turned out I was staring at the ceiling a lot, because I read 12 books in January alone, which I took to be a sign I may have taken my hermit lifestyle too far.
It took weeks for my brain to catch up with the new norms. How could the world be so different when everything looked exactly the same?
My brain got there eventually and I’ve come to like some of the changes. I like less traffic on the road, I like things being quieter, but I still hate evenings and living alone sometimes feels oppressive. Has this virus not seen my youngest niece, Nora? She’s a tiny blonde pixie, who you have no choice but to carry around and squeeze with love every time you see her. Not being able to see her or squeeze her is a cruel and unusual punishment.
Like every man and his dog, I swore I would use this time to better myself as a person, and like every foolish man and his dog, I’ve made a list that’s probably going to be too long, even for a pandemic, but I’m doing some stuff, mostly in the garden, which rewarded me this week with the first sasanqua flower I’ve ever managed.
A pandemic is about the only thing that could distract from what a huge difference there is in the landscape between January and now. Water returned, green returned. Not enough to end the drought, but enough to loosen its grip.