COVID-19: Day 100: Hoo Boy

This has now been going on for 100 days for me.  I have been socially isolated and/or masked for 100 days.  I’ve been out very little, but I have been out — to the grocery store or to my office for the most part.

I’m weary of the whole thing, but we’re still in the first wave!

Wear a mask, please!  This is never going to be over if you don’t.  People you love will die if you don’t.  This is serious shit!  It’s not rocket science.  It’s not a liberal conspiracy.

This could have been over already!  Instead, the numbers are going up.  Wear.  A.  Mask.


COVID-19: Day 93: Moody

Photo by Joshua Hoehne on Unsplash

I’m in a mood today.  I’m as gray and cloudy as is it outside right now.

It’s technically Day 93 of my social-distancing at home.  I was at the office for two full days last week.  Hoo boy!  The bustle and noise of downtown Huntington just did me in.  It’s quiet here on my hill — very quiet.  It seems I have adapted.  Just getting to Huntington set my nerves on edge — I have about a half-hour commute.  As far as commutes go, it’s not bad, but when you’ve been pretty much nowhere for 80-odd days, the traffic is surprising and unsettling.  So much so that here it is Sunday, my favorite day of the week, and I’m still unsettled.

I was in the office to do battle with the Never-Ending Tech Problems of June 2020.  Truly, my nerves are shot.  I’ve spent hours in tech support trying to sort out email problems.  The good news is we are moving the whole kit ‘n caboodle to cloud-based this week.  The downside of that is that I will need to spend most of this coming week in the office.

Tomorrow is Chef Boy ‘R Mine’s birthday.  That should cheer me up so that this mood does not persist much longer.  Truly, I can’t stand myself right now, so here’s to hoping I get over my first world problems and develop some gratitude for the life of privilege that I live.

Self-Important, Officious Little Despots

I went to vote this afternoon. I had meant to vote an absentee ballot but didn’t get my request sent in on time and so I trundled down to my polling place. I have voted in every election, I’m pretty sure since I registered to vote in West Virginia which was 1986 or, perhaps, 1987.  Today was the first time they ever gave me an “I Voted” sticker, but they sucked all the joy out of that.

They keep changing my precinct number — I switch back and forth between Cabell County Precinct 60A and Cabell County Precinct 60B. It has something to do with my last name being the middle of the alphabet.

Sure enough, they changed me again. I got a brand new Voter Registration Card a while back and I tucked it into my wallet for this day.

I walked into a mostly empty highschool gym. I went to 60A. I had to wait for the gentleman in front of me to get his ballot. They asked him for ID and he gave them what appeared to be a driver’s license. OK, fine. It’s my turn. I give them my brand, spanking new Voter Registration Card and they ask for me for photo ID.

Now that struck me wrong. I was pretty sure that my card was sufficient, but I’ve had a long day, I was cranky, and I had ID. I gave it to her.

When I got home, I checked the Secretary of State’s website for acceptable ID at the polls. It clearly states that my Voter Registration Card is sufficient.

I am tired of officious, self-important despots changing the rules to reflect their personal opinions. Or whatever it was that went on. She was clearly wrong. But so was I. I didn’t speak up. It was a long day. I was tired. I had photo ID.

I’m told that polling personnel go through training. I would think that proper identification would be a significant portion of that training. If they are screwing up something as basic as that, what else are they doing? I don’t give a rat’s ass if you think a photo ID should be required. That is not the law. Polling personnel don’t get to make the rules.

Yes, I’ve already sent email to the Secretary of State’s office and will fill out the complaint form as soon as I can convince my printer to print.


COVID 19: Day 87: Normal

Today is Day 87 of my social isolation.  I broke quarantine and went into the office.  I had to.  I’m up to my ass in alligators and it’s time to clean out the swamp.

It was nice to sit at my desk.  I had Mexican take-out for lunch.  I riffled through email and an email technology problem.  I shuffled some paper around.  I made a few phone calls.  It was all so normal.  Nice, splendid normal.

Tomorrow I will go in for what will probably be a full day.  We have a big technology project underway and I don’t even know what continent my ducks are on — forget having them in a row.

Normal.  It’s a nice respite, but I think it’s just that.  I don’t think the pandemic is even close to over.  But I’ll take a day like this now and again.  Oh, yes, I will.