from outerspace

It's the middle (beginning? End?) Of pandemic times. 

I'm feeling it all. 

Every emotion at the same time, and I think everyone is... but I want to scream and pout and all that just the same. 

I'm one of the "lucky" ones. I'm still an essential service. But every day is fucking scary. Today I set up a "donning and doffing station" for personal protective equipment (which for some reason my boss keeps locked in her office) for when the people I support get sick. It will eventually happen. I can't control everyone. 

I've really been doing ok. Overall. I mean, it's been such a long time since I wrote anything down,  I'm not sure where to start. 

This week has been hard. Waves of grief and longing. 

My last physical touch... human contact, a hug, was March 12th. 34 days ago.  That should be fine. But with the prospect of this dragging on for another couple of months, I just start blinking the tears every hour or so. Fine one second, soggy sleeves the next. 

I have housemates. I'm lucky in that I have a bit of interaction. 3 years into cohousing/cobuilding stress.

We're all dealing the best we can, and that means dealing.... the best we can. (No blame, I imagine I must be frustrating) 

I don't have a point. I don't have a fun twist to wrap this up with. 

I'm sad. I'm lonely. I'm tired. 

I hate people and I miss people.