The year that shall not be named.

From RoxAnn

Like many of you, my emotions have been swirling of late, equal parts sadness, fear, depression and despair. 

That is mixed in with a small measure of hope that one day all of this elbow bumping, mask wearing, obituary reading, covid talk will be behind us. 

2020, you couldn't be gone soon enough.

Couple the covid denial and subsequent onslaught with talk of martial law and a totally inept President refusing to leave office and you got yourself one peach of a year. And throw in another bout with a very dangerous cancer on a personal level, mix and stir.

A year when certain people in a year of masks were totally unmasked and found to stand for absolutely nothing.

Like losing John Prine wasn't bad enough.

From PX

Imagine if you had to explain what happened into 2020 to your deceased pappy, they would probably never believe the totality of it. "You're shitting me...What do you mean social distancing?" We have had a global onslaught and paradigm shift that is hard to compare any other year to since the grand old days of the black plague.  

And a lot of reaction has been completely inane, covid conga lines, maskless caroling, huge gatherings and prayer services, these sorts of activities never ever seem to end well. 

The last thing you usually see is somebody hooked to a ventilator telling you that he or she should have taken things more seriously. Or they tell you it is just a bad spot of the flu before they finally pull their eyelids down.

Anyway I don't have any answers. I didn't sleep well last night worrying about my water situation, which is going on the fourth day without. The leak whisperer came out, had no clue, tons of water going through the meter and not showing up anywhere. Ditto Tom, who knows and has worked on my system for years.

I guess I will just watch money pour down the drain, leave the system on and hope that it bubbles up somewhere. So I am depressed. But I am healthy, as is my wife, and there are a lot of people with way worse problems. Have to keep telling myself that but I am starting to stink from the lack of regular hygiene.

I guess the Hopi go months without water, what's the name of that dry desert in Chile? The Atacama? Driest spot on earth and somebody probably lives there and never complains. And look at me.

Do you have a name for 2020? I would like to hear it. I was thinking the year of marginal haircuts but it doesn't quite capture the magnitude of the dread. Plus, Leslie cuts my hair and I don't want to piss her off. They're pretty good really but now at some sort of Einsteinian tipping point. Think Dr. Zorba if you are old enough.

Course next year could be even worse. I think I will go hide under my blanket.

Speaking of sleep, interesting article on Covid and sleep over at the Atlantic. Might be time to pump the melatonin. Read it.