COVID-19 got me, lads. It finally got me.
The fatigue and chest pain are so real right now.
Given my track record with mononucleosis and shingles, I’m also facing down the very real possibility that I may never make a full recovery from this. But I’ve been managing fatigue for well over a decade at this point, so I’m basically a professional at long-term illness.
Half the country has returned lockdown purgatory, there was like a week there we were allowed out and it was… Well, the mere thought of going outside fills me with dread, which is always a ride but never one I want to be on.
Survived to December somehow. Can’t say the same for my Facebook page. The impact of capitalism on social media makes it very difficult to derive any joy from something that was originally set up as a hobby.
Looks like the end of year meltdown is going to hit right on schedule. Subverted it last year by pushing it up to August to coincide with Hobes’ death instead. Thinking about Hobes still makes me cry, which is just something I’m reluctantly existing with at this point.
(Hobes’ death alone makes 2020 far from my worst year, like, personally.)
Hi, uh… what the fuck is going on?
Not that I casually disappeared from the blog for, assuming I read the date on that last entry correctly, 6 entire months or anything, but in my defence the country was on fire and now there’s a pandemic.
Full disclosure though, it turns out pandemic lockdown is my ideal lifestyle:
- Everybody has to go home and wash their nasty little hands.
- Nobody is allowed to touch me.
- Kicky post-apocalyptic looks encourage others to maintain a minimum 1.5 metre distance of awed respect.