Except for driving over to the Lost Dog on Monday, Presidents Day, to have a pizza for lunch, I haven't left my property since the previous Friday, when I went for a three mile walk with a friend who drove over from the District. She's already had a shot and so she is mere weeks away from soon getting her second shot and then after a short waiting period being able to be out and about without fearing catching one of those monster new variants and being laid low and maybe dying.
For me, after all the hype about the dangerousness of the mutant viruses, after eleven months of successfully hunkering in place, I'm now intimidated by the new coronavirus battleground and left feeling vulnerable and insecure. And jealous of all my eligible friends who have already wrangled a shot while I sit at home like tweedle dumb.
They all had a much younger person perform some magic on the Internet, sometimes from a thousand miles away, to break through the wasting Refresh-Refresh-Refresh humiliating logjam to get an appointment for them, and you know what? This system we have for the distribution of the vaccination sucks and is illuminating how far we've fallen as a nation, especially in the last four years, and it's somebody's great joke on the elderly to make it so old folks can't figure out how to break into their spot on the line to get inoculated without devoted children doing it for them and it shows us who are lonely enough living alone exactly how useless the rest of society regards us as.
The last two days have been an ice storm around here and I had a hard time chipping the frozen snow glaze off my back cement steps so I could descend them to leave the house and run a snow shovel down the sidewalk. I have been feeling like prey waiting to be caught in some fashion lately as the nameless, faceless days go by.
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