My housemate read me a text they got, from someone saying “if you need a COVID vaccine shot, call this number, they have extra doses.” I called (I hate calling), and got myself an appointment. Just recently I got my second shot, so that’s good news.
Everyday is the same, except for weekends, when I stop getting emails from clients.
Random encounters are gone.
Bumping into an old friend, gone.
Trying something new on the menu. There is no menu. Stay home.
I go on solo runs in the woods, and hope no one is around.
Once a week I venture to the grocery store. I’ve taken to drive the extra distance to different stores, just to mix it up a little.
I got a bike trainer and a subscription to Zwift, so now I see people from all over the world as virtual cyclists. We give each other thumbs ups as we pass each other.
Just 41 days ago a shooting happened at a Boulder, CO grocery store. The fundraiser for Maggie Montoya and the pharmacy staff where she worked, it sits quiet and still, having not reached the halfway mark. The last donation was 15 days ago.
Everything keeps moving, business as usual. Yet everything is frozen in time.