coffee pot posts, Coronavirus Chronicles

Saturday morning coffee pot post

Last night I slept the longest and the hardest that I have slept in months. I did it without alcohol or Xanax or melatonin and if there were any large firework explosions in the middle of the night I slept right through them. I didn’t even get up to pee until 8:30, then I fed the cats, and went back and slept another hour until I woke naturally. It amazes me how much the need to sleep rules my desires. I mean, I forego almost anything in order to wake up without an alarm in the morning. This did not start with the pandemic, but the pandemic and election depression certainly doubled the insomnia and desire to sleep until I wake up like Dorothy and find out that it was all a dream.

I haven’t done much this week – it’s been a particularly bad one for my mental health. I’ve been very angry and cranky about small bureaucratic stuff. I haven’t gotten a response from Orbitz about my Aer Lingus credit despite a couple of follow up emails. The little dipshit technical things at work which usually involve many emails about changing a number from one column to another, or three forms with verified signatures that get sent without copying me, or having to do triple the work to change two letters on a form – those are the things that make me nuts. I will miss my department co-workers and buddies, but I won’t miss the job. It has changed so much since I have been there, in the name of “simplifying” for other departments. I do so many different things I can’t keep up with the changes any more, which makes those people who only see their part of it cranky with me.

I need to be careful what I wish for, though, because who knows what budget cuts might bring next year. I need to keep this job at the minimum until Feb. 17, 2021, which I am not worried about, and preferably until May 1, 2023, when I will be 62 and have 20 years in with the state. That’s my target date.

Thanksgiving at Lake Waccamaw is out. My sister and I decided to follow the advice of the public health professionals. I thought about going by myself to our lake house and backing my car in so that nobody can see my liberal bumper stickers, but that county is one of the red hotspots in North Carolina with the highest rate of Co-vid 19 infections. It is too bad that such a pretty tranquil place is in the middle of a bunch of white supremacists and hard-headed people. And I am not exaggerating about the white supremacists. My brother-in-law and his friend went to a meeting that advertised a lecture about Lincoln. Turned out it was a negative lecture and it was an organized local White hate group, complete with a ladies’ auxiliary called the “Confederate Roses.” They found out a whole lot about their neighbors and local businesspeople.

So I preordered a turkey dinner with side dishes and a pie and a quiche from Deep Roots Market. Although we will miss my sister’s cooking, at least I will be able to enjoy Thanksgiving without worrying about the food prep. I ordered enough that we should have leftovers for a few days.

This will be a beautiful weekend. We had a freeze this week but my front garden with the bricks around it did okay. We brought in the lemon tree and large aloe plant, but I think that they can go on the front porch for a few more weeks at least. I need to clean out my garden plot at UNCG and bring the wire supports home.

I’ve ignored my online classes again. I wish that I was one of those people who could escape into art when they are depressed, but all I want to do is sleep, read, and play mindless games.

I see that I never posted photos of the papers Susanne and I dyed and printed last Sunday. I will try to remember to do it later. I want to work on transferring the rest of the 2011 posts over from Flickr before I do anything else.

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