Tales from the Sickroom, Days 5-10 . . .

 I will just make it short and sweet:  

QUARANTINE IS DONE! 

I still have a mild amount of nausea but I can eat and nothing's coming back up.

And I will still wear a mask and wash/sanitize my hands.

But I can get out of the house.

Tomorrow I celebrate with a haircut!!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tales from the Sickroom, Days 2-5

 Both my son and I have now tested positive for COVID, and I’m having a hard time explaining why he tested positive when he got his shots. 

We are now all on quarantine, because my husband has also been told he can’t go back to work until I test negative. 

The biggest enemy of quarantine is boredom. While I have more advantages than my grandparents had when/if they were in quarantine, boredom is a universal problem. There are only so many games of solitaire you can play on an iPad, only so many websites you can visit. I fried my brain on too many solitaire games a couple of days ago. 

Tomorrow none of us will be at church.  We will go back to the days of online church, where I will make communion bread and we will dig out the last of the grape juice to drink. 

Quarantine also totally throws off an internal clock. I’ve lost a sense of what day it actually is and even had to check my phone to see what today’s date was. 

Fortunately, I fall into the category of “not that sick” and my husband took advantage of that . . . By having us go and do yard work in the back yard this afternoon. He mowed, I ran the edger. 

Tonight I got a nice infusion of courage from the movie “Darkest Hour”, the story of the first weeks of Winston Churchill’s term as prime minister in 1940.

None of us are lying in bed feverish and coughing. 

My release date should come on September 29th, barring another positive COVID test.  The test has already been scheduled.  

And I took advantage of Instacart to restock necessary supplies of apples, bananas and chocolate. 

Unfortunately, I had to settle for dark chocolate Reese’s cups rather than milk chocolate ones. :: places hand dramatically to forehead :: Oh, the humanity! Life is so unfair! 

On the other hand, if the lack of milk chocolate Reese’s Cups is an indication of how unfair life is, I think that is something I can put up with. 

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tales from the Sickroom, Day 1

 I have been ill off and on since around Labor Day. The worst of it was around the beginning of September, when I had a bad sore throat and it hurt to swallow.

I felt better right after Labor Day. Then I relapsed.

Finally, I did what I probably should have done when this whole thing started.

I signed up for a COVID test. 

The process took about five minutes and involved swishing a long-handled Q Tip in one nostril while the person counted to 12, then repeating the process in the other nostril. For those of you that had a COVID test where the swab was shoved up your nose almost to your brain, no, this was not like that. You just had to get enough to be tested.

After said swishing was completed, I broke off the cotton portion of the Q Tip into a vial filled with liquid, sealed it in plastic which contained the ominous orange and black warning "BIOHAZARD", then dropped it into the collection box. All of this was done at our pharmacy's drive thru. 

The test said "one to two days" and I had mine done Sunday, so I didn't expect to hear until Tuesday what my results were.

Last night my phone dinged with my results.

I tested positive.

First off, I was shocked but not really surprised. It's a shock when you see "positive" on a test where you wanted a "negative." Second, even though I've been vaccinated, I've heard about breakthrough COVID and I figure this is what it is. Third, I'm grateful I did have the vaccine because I would have been much sicker without it. 

Today I called my doctor's office.  I am to quarantine for the next 10 days. And my husband and son need to get tested.

When I told my son, he didn't get why he needed to be tested because he'd already had his shots. But I got him tested anyway. And my husband is scheduled for tomorrow. 

I am not really that sick. I just have lagging congestion, the occasional cough, and residual fatigue.

Last year, I would have been terrified at a positive COVID diagnosis. 

This year, I'm just annoyed because this morning, I was on either phone, e-mail or text notifying everyone who needed to be notified and changing appointments that needed to be changed. (I'm reminded of my mother in law's comment after she had a seizure -- probably due to a lack of magnesium -- a number of years ago. Her complaint was, it's in the middle of a busy week!) 

But, I'll take annoyance over hospitalization any day of the week. 

I can't use "It's The End Of The World As We Know It" as my theme song in this particular snarkfest because I don't "feel fine". If anyone can find a funny song about illness, send it my way. In the meantime, I will be waving from the sick room.  Cheers! 

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 1-3, Quarantine Edition

I haven’t done a TEOTWAWKI journal lately.

I mean, what is there to say? 

We’re in the midst of a pandemic, the response to the pandemic in the USA has been and is being mismanaged by both incompetent leadership and selfish people who refuse to wear masks and take appropriate precautions, all in the name of “my freedom” and “I refuse to live in fear”. 

Race relations in this country have sunk to a terrible low. 

And don’t get me started on the coming election.

Like probably all of us, I feel weary and burdened.  I struggle with feelings of depression, of being buried under the weight of everything going on in the world, and also being buried under the weight of dealing with everyday life.  I am grateful for the work I have and for the money I can earn.  But sometimes, carrying everything is exhausting. 

Monday, the five letters, two numbers, and hyphen that have come to define our lives hit home. 

My husband called me and said that he’d been exposed to someone at work who’d tested positive for COVID.  He was sent home immediately.  At the moment, he is quarantined in our home office.  This is Wednesday, his third day of quarantine; which is why this is Quarantine Edition, Day 1-3. 

He is showing no symptoms.  Neither am I and neither is our son.  At the time of exposure, he was wearing a mask, as was the other person, and they were both practicing social distancing.  

The odds of any of us getting sick are low.  But he is going to have to be tested in a few days.  

Since the rise of COVID numbers in my state, I’ve made sure to wear a mask when I go out and have my family wear them also.  I wash my hands.  This past Saturday, my son and I went to a gathering at our church.  It was outside, we all wore masks, and when we sat down, the chairs were six feet apart.  

Today, I had an appointment with my ear, nose, throat doctor to make sure that I was doing OK with my CPAP.  I called the office yesterday to tell them that my husband had been exposed, and when I said that my husband was quarantined in the office, that he’d worn a mask when he was at work, and had practiced social distancing, the office person said that I was at very low risk.  

When I went there today, they asked me if I wanted a COVID test, and since I was there, I decided to do it.  

They use a swab and insert it into your nose.  

A long swab. 

Inserted WAY up your nose. 

I said after it was over that that test seriously cleared out your sinuses! 

I will know the results by Friday. 

(As far as the CPAP is concerned, I’m doing okay.  I use it every time I go to bed.).

So, life in my house consists of going to necessary places and coming immediately home, wearing masks, working from home (my husband was cleared for working from home even before he was exposed; he was at the office due to problems with our WiFi.).

And I need to get my son ready to start back to his program.  And figure out what to do when his program ends in February.  (We are in the system with Vocational Rehabilitation, and there are other options available.).

This will not be an encouraging entry.  Outside events and internal issues have drained me.  Just like the vast majority of us on this earth. 

Instead of being snarky, today’s theme song reads:

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it . . . 

And I don’t feel fine. 

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina’s TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 62-63

I called my BFF to vent this morning.

I feel tense and jumpy, waiting to be interrupted all.the.time.

If I wake up before my husband, I run the risk of waking HIM up.  Our dressers are on the same side of the room, his side (they also serve as a divider between the bedroom area and the “office” area which I am now using.)

I KNOW the Christian homemaking books say that the wife is supposed to get up first, have her “quiet time” or “devotional time” and then fix breakfast for everyone, but both Frank and Matthew get up anywhere between 4 and 4:30.  I absolutely cannot get up that early.  (And a decent “quiet time” has been beyond my ken for years.  I listen to an audio Bible app.  I stopped trying to keep up with a Beth Moore and a Priscilla Shirer study that my Sunday school class and my ladies’ Bible study was doing because it got to be too much.).

I started back working this week (yay!) but I’ve been putting in about seven hours’ worth of work daily since I’ve been working.  Yesterday I wanted to go walking with Frank and Matthew.  I finally told them to go on alone.  The major problem I was having was the spinning blue circle of death that was happening nearly every single time I tried to move the cursor!  The circle can spin from ten seconds up to over a full minute.  AND, all of the depositions I am listening to are done by videoconference.  For obvious reasons.  Which can affect the sound quality.

Our preacher has been talking a lot about current events lately, particularly Ahmaud Arbery’s shooting (and now, the horrific shooting of Breonna Taylor in Louisville, Kentucky) because we have people of color in our congregation that have been deeply affected.  And as much as I want to support people, I have a limited amount of time and energy, physically and emotionally.  But, if I don’t put forth the energy to listen to people’s concerns and get educated on those concerns, I fear being told that “you don’t care about your brothers and sisters in Christ.”

And *both* of my knees hurt.  I may have to head back to the orthopedic doc.  They hurt in the same way that my knee hurt about a year and a half or so ago when I ended up having a torn meniscus and needed knee surgery.  One of my docs wants me to walk.  How am I supposed to walk when my knees hurt?

I have pages to proof that are due by Monday.

Today I am scheduled for an eye exam, which I was scheduled for last month and I forgot the appointment.

Next week Matthew has an appointment and one or both of us will have to take him (and it’s 45 minutes one way.)

Frank STILL has not heard when he’s going back to work.  He is getting paid, and I’m thankful for that.  But he’d rather be working and I don’t blame him for that.

Next week Matthew’s school ends for the semester.  We have gotten his paperwork sent in for vocational rehab.  I have a copy of The Loving Push by Temple Grandin, and every time I pick it up and see what she has to say about electronics addiction, and how staying in a room is not acceptable, I want to scream, “But that is ALL of what Matthew wants to do!  Stay in his room and play with the electronics!  That is IT, and it will be a full-time job just to get him out of there!  I don’t have the energy, especially the emotional energy, to do it, especially when most of the job is going to fall on ME!”

My BFF told me, ‘you be you’, but sometimes I just think that ‘me’ is not acceptable.  I don’t know if I could consider myself “shy” anymore, but shyness is NOT acceptable in our culture.  In American Christian culture, a working mother is just barely acceptable.  An intellectual woman is an anomaly.  And being fat and not that attractive is not acceptable.  I’m way overweight, have tried Weight Watchers, have tried at least one other program, and I just cannot stick with it.  It’s too overwhelming to think about food, and exercise, and everything else.

Such is life on Day 63 of quarantine!

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina’s TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 59-61

On Monday, for the first time in 49 days, I was able to post the following status:

“Time to make the donuts!”

The people I proof for are slowly picking up work again and as a result, I am starting to get work again as well.

Yesterday I proofed 150 pages, and when I listened to the recording, I felt everyone’s pain.

For right now, lawyers, deponents, and court reporters are having to do their jobs via Zoom, or Google Meet, or whatever videoconference platform they are using.  They’re doing their jobs the same way millions of people around the world are:  in living rooms, bedrooms, dining rooms, home offices; using Internet, using desktops, laptops, iPads, and phones.

They’re working the same way that I am attending church and that my son is attending school.  Only in the 21st century would this be possible!

The one disadvantage to my particular job, however, is called sound quality.  I listen to recordings as part of my job, and unfortunately, meeting via videoconference is not always conducive to audible legibility.

So it means often playing a portion of a recording over and over, trying to figure out if the person really is saying what the transcript has recorded them saying.  And it means sometimes straining your ears and turning up the volume.

I’m not always crazy about working, and sometimes the tedium of the job can get to me.

But I appreciate the fact that I am working.  There are people that can’t say that right now.

So it’s nice to be able to say it again:

“Time to make the donuts!”

And, also time to sing our theme song:

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 58

She was ten years old when she went to bed, 80 years ago, and when she woke up the next time, the world as she knew it had ended.

Did the bombs wake her up in the middle of the night?

Did her parents' exclamations wake her up?

Did she hear them turning the radio dial, get up, and wonder what happened?

Did her 14-year-old sister wake her up?

Or did she just wake up the next morning to learn that her country had been invaded?

She and her sister probably didn't go to school that day, although her father did go to work.

Her mother probably told her and her sister to "stay in the house, it's not safe to go out," and I'm guessing she was only too glad to comply.

For the next five days, she lived her life in uncertainty, not knowing what was happening or why, just knowing that her adopted homeland was under attack.

Five days later, the army surrendered.

Five years later, Anne Frank would be dead.

I've been listening to a day-by-day accounting of the World War II years on YouTube.  The owner of the channel is a little bit behind due to unavoidable circumstances. :-) The person on the channel reads the day's headlines from the Chicago Tribune 80 years ago (he is a Chicago native) and then will play what would have been broadcast on the radio that day.  He's played episodes of Fibber McGee and Molly, The Lone Ranger, and similar shows; he's also broadcast Presidential speeches and breaking news shows.

He's running a little bit behind due to unavoidable circumstances, but in a couple of weeks, he's going to be talking about 80 years ago today, May 10, 1940, which was the day Germany invaded the Low Countries, including the Netherlands, where Anne Frank and her family were living. 

His day-by-day approach to recounting history makes me think of the day-by-day lives of people like Anne Frank and her family.  We have the advantage of history and are able to see the entire story arc of her life and how it fits into history.  She didn't have that advantage.  All Anne knew was that one evening, she went to bed, and the next time she got up, the world as she knew it was over.

She didn't know that she'd be dead in five years, that she'd never get to grow up, marry, have children.

Anne could very well join in in singing our theme song:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 56-57

It has been a hard week in this country.

And I am tired.

All week I have been seeing posts about a movie, "Plandemic" which claimed -- among other things -- that the COVID-19 virus was allegedly, according to CBS News, engineered to increase vaccination rates, and that wearing face masks is harmful. 

I don't have the mental energy to go chasing rabbits down that particular rabbit hole.  What has truly annoyed me is the screams of "Censorship!" because both Facebook and YouTube have removed the video (multiple times, in the case of Facebook) from their platforms.  I think the video is currently available on Vimeo.  I am not going to go looking for it, nor am I going to provide a link to it.  I don't do conspiracy theories.  (Oswald acted alone.  Deal with it.) 

And, this week, another video surfaced, that of the shooting of an unarmed black man, Ahmaud Arbery, who was followed and shot by two white men who claimed that he had burglarized houses in the area.  (Georgia does have a citizen's arrest law, saying that a private citizen can lawfully detain someone who has committed a crime in the presence of another person, or the person must have "immediate knowledge" of a crime committed by the perpetrator. 

As I understand it, these men thought Arbery had committed a crime, and they allegedly went after him to detain him until the police arrived, according to a statement by George Barnhill, the Ware County, GA District Attorney.

The rest of the story is told in the 36-second video:  Arbery being blocked by the truck, trying to go around it, then grappling with Travis McMichael's shotgun; three shotgun blasts, then Arbery dead in the street.

One of the questions I was asking myself yesterday was, why did Arbery go for the gun?  Didn't he realize that that was probably going to get him shot? 

It finally occurred to this very foolish white woman that my question begs the question:  Why in the world was Travis McMichael even pointing a shotgun at Ahmaud Arbery to begin with?  If he hadn't been confronted with a shotgun in the first place, there would have been no reason for him to grapple with Travis McMichael! 

This week also, screenshots of a Facebook group, "Justice for Gregory and Travis McMichael" came up in my FB feed.  The description of the group reads as follows:  "These two God-fearing men were only trying to protect their neighborhood.  This area has had a string of break-ins and this man fit the description and did not comply with simple commands."

If I were jogging, and two men pulled up to block me and demanded that I stop, that they "just wanted to talk with me", and I saw that they were armed, I would probably do one of two things:  stop with my hands up, or run as fast as I could in the opposite direction while screaming.  I would not feel the obligation to "comply with simple commands".  Rather, I would probably think, "Men.  Guns.  Threat," and respond accordingly.  Had it been a police officer who demanded that I stop, I would stop, raise my hands, and show that I wasn't armed.

"Justice for Gregory and Travis McMichael" currently has 100.4K members.  To be fair, this group was renamed from a previous group, Christians Against Google, and it may already have had a fair number of people in it rather than it being a group started from scratch.  But I suspect that many more joined after the name change. 

I am hearing all of this on top of handling a son who is going to school online, and also while gathering up the paperwork I need to apply for more services for him.  And I have my day-to-day life I am trying to lead in this midst of this pandemic.  This week, I saw in our church's email that our campus was closed "until further notice".  I find that phrase very depressing to read, although I understand why it's necessary.

And I also hear the screams about "government overreach" when people are asked to wear masks when they go outside.  I hear the screams about "open the economy or more people will die!"  I've heard the word "doomed" applied to our country, and I want to say sarcastically in response, "We're doomed.  Doomed, I tell you!"   

I am going to use a bad word here.  I am fed up, mentally fatigued and angry, and it seems the only word appropriate at the moment. 

What in the hell is wrong with our country???

Snark is definitely appropriate today:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 54-55

Ahmaud Arbery, 25, left for a jog on February 23, 2020, and never came home.

He died of a shotgun blast on a Brunswick, Georgia street. 

As I understand the story, two men saw him running, thought that he was responsible for a series of break-ins in the neighborhood, pursued him, and shot him when he wouldn't stop.

Arbery is black.  The alleged shooters are white.

As of the time I'm writing this, May 7, 2020, 2:37 p.m., no charges have been filed.

And the only reason I know about this case is because of media coverage of a video that was just released a few days ago. 

I have not watched the video.  I cannot bring myself to do so.  But this CNN article gives the details.  The video clip is 36 seconds long, and I don't know who made the video. 

According to CNN, the video shows Arbery jogging down the middle of the street and veering around a truck blocking his path.  He then tussles with 34-year-old Travis McMichael over a shotgun McMichael was holding.  A shot goes off.  64-year-old Greg McMichael, Travis' father, pulls out a handgun but doesn't shoot. 

Arbery and Travis McMichael disappear briefly off screen, then come back into view.  Both are clutching the shotgun when a third shot goes off.  Arbery drops to the street.  Travis McMichael walks away, holding the shotgun. 

The McMichaels claim self-defense.  A prosecutor who's since stepped down said that the McMichaels "engaged in hot pursuit and had solid first-hand probable cause as civilians to detain Arbery."  He stated, "It appears their intent was to stop and hold this criminal suspect until law enforcement arrived.  Under Georgia law, this is perfectly legal."  Georgia does allow for a citizen's arrest if they "have immediate knowledge of an offense or if a perpetrator is trying to flee after committing a felony."

My first reaction, after hearing of this shooting, was, "This is Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman all over again.  Black man shot by white man because white man thought black man was a criminal."

My second reaction was, "If these two people thought he'd broken into a house someplace, why in the world did they not let the police handle it?"  (Someone did make a 911 call; CNN did not release the caller's identity.) 

My third reaction is heartsickness, again, for my African-American brothers and sisters who, again, have to deal with a white-on-black shooting.  One of my Facebook friends, who is African-American and who attends my church, said today that he jogs, and now he's afraid to because someone might decide to shoot him simply because of the color of his skin. 

Others of my African-American friends say that they have had to have "the talk" with their sons.  It is "the talk" about how the police may treat you if you are black, about how you have to be careful, about how you have to behave . . . it is a talk I will never have to have with my son, solely because I am white and he is white. 

Today, Ahmaud Arbery's picture has shown up on Facebook multiple times, including in my son's Facebook feed.  Today, I had to explain to him that two men shot another man because they thought he'd been a burglar when he wasn't.  My son has autism.  I kept race out of it because I know of no way to explain to him that yes, there are white people out there who hate people who are not white.  They hate people like the man who leads our college ministry.  Like a favorite usher of my son's.  Like a former minister at my church who now preaches in Tennessee.  Like a young lady who is also part of our college/young adult ministry.  Like three elders at my church and their wives and their children. 

Yesterday, finally, a district attorney has decided to take the case to a grand jury. 

I pray that justice will be done and that truth prevails.

How much longer must we see crimes, shootings, anger, prejudice, bigotry? 

How long, O Lord?

I definitely feel like being snarky on this particular entry:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, day 53

It's rare that a TV show makes me want to ugly cry, but there are two of them that push me to the brink.

One is This Is Us.  The other is Call the Midwife from the BBC.

I cry because both shows bring life and death, tragedy and humor all together at once.

For those unfamiliar with the show, Call the Midwife is the story of a group of British midwives based in a Catholic convent in London.  It is based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth, who served as a midwife there in the 1950's.  The show has aired since 2012.  I don't get to see it until it comes to PBS, many weeks after it finishes airing in the UK.

The midwives and the nuns of Nonnatus House, where the women serve, handle a number of issues; most dealing with pregnancy and childbirth, some dealing with the culture and history of the time.  They have dealt with the effects of thalidomide (a drug that caused major birth defects in the 1960's), the subject of abortion, the rape of a nun, the introduction of the National Health Service, the care of a mentally handicapped young man, adoption, and many other topics.

I just finished watching the latest episode. 

One of the storylines featured a mother who wanted desperately for her child to be born on her father's birthday.  Her father had died many years earlier and thus had not been able to get to know his grandchildren.  So, she took castor oil in order to induce labor.  It worked, and right before midnight on her father's birthday, she gave birth to a baby boy. 

Two days later, the boy was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with multiple birth defects.  It turned out that she had been exposed to German measles early in her pregnancy.  The baby would die within weeks. 

So the family decided to bring him home and enjoy the time they would have with him. 

Which they did. 

This storyline was intertwined with the efforts of the members of the Poplar community, where Nonnatus House is located, to put on a flower show.  The elderly Sister Monica Joan insisted on doing an exhibition from Nonnatus House, and she insisted on doing it alone. 

At the end, all you see at Sister Monica Joan's spot is the small statue of St. Nonnatus (the patron saint of childbirth and midwives) . . . until a group of women come bringing their babies to lay at the base of St. Nonnatus's statue.  These were the "flowers" of Sister Monica Joan's exhibit.

One of the midwives had been closely involved in helping the family of the infant who died.  At the end of the episode, the father gave her a picture of the baby, and she attached it to a potted plant and laid it with the rest of the babies. 

I have never lost a child to death, nor have I had a miscarriage, but I know many who have.  The day I'm writing this, May 4th, is the anniversary of the birth and death of a little girl named Hope, the first child of a couple I met at my church.  I know of other women who have lost children to stillbirth and to SIDS.  My own grandmother lost a little girl to illness at three months.

Call the Midwife begins and ends with a voiceover monologue from the elderly Jenny (voiced by Vanessa Redgrave).  The ending monologue moved me close to ugly crying.

"Some seeds are more predictable than others.  We plant them and they send up shoots.  We water them and then we watch them grow.  They reward us with abundance, with joy, with pleasure, in the rhythms of life itself.  Water them and they will flourish.  Nurture them and they will thrive.  Love and light and rain and air are all they need.  Flowers take many forms.  Each one has its story and its roots.  Each one unfurls from its bulb or its kernel, revealing itself and all its promise as it will.  Each is entirely precious and unique.  Each is the best and the only.  Each will linger in the mind.  Each will teach us what it is to love.  To be torn, to nurture, and let go.  Not every garden blooms as we expected.  Despite our care, not every child can thrive.  Tears take the place of rain and the sunshine fails us.  But the buds, however delicate, were prefect.  They were real, and their fleeting scent will live forever on the air."

Today is not the day to end with a snarky rendition of "It's The End Of The World As We Know It", because this is not a subject for snark.  It is a time to reflect on the delicate buds that, although they did not thrive, were real, and to detect their scent that still lives on the air.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Days 49-52

In 1987, during the heat of a Presidential campaign, then-candidate Gary Hart threw down the gauntlet in response to rumors of his womanizing.  He challenged the press to follow him, saying "they'll be very bored."

The Miami Herald called his bluff, picked up the gauntlet, and discovered that he was carrying on a relationship with a young woman, Donna Rice (now Donna Rice Hughes). 

As a result, Gary Hart dropped out of the race for president . . . until December, 1987, when he announced, "Let the people decide, I'm back in the race!" 

His second attempt was as unsuccessful as the first.  Michael Dukakis was the eventual Democratic nominee in 1988, and he lost to George H.W. Bush.

During this period, I remember hearing talk about, "does character count?"  I thought, "Why are we even having this conversation?  Of course, character counts!" 

Apparently, the majority of the American people did not agree with me, because in 1992, Bill Clinton, himself the subject of allegations and suspicions of womanizing, was elected president, not once, but twice.  We know the rest of the story, involving a young woman named Monica Lewinsky, a deposition where a sitting president committed perjury, and a press conference where Bill Clinton looked the public dead in the eye and lied.  (Yes, Clinton should have been impeached because he was a sitting president who committed perjury.  He lied under oath.) 

And again, the question came up:  Does character matter?

And again, the answer:  Apparently not, because in 2016, the American people elected a man who's been openly unfaithful to two wives, bragged about how if you're famous, women will let you grab them by a particular area of the anatomy, been accused of sexual assault by a number of women, and, since his election, has used Twitter as a place to blast people he doesn't like or agree with.

Now, in 2020, our choices for United States President have come down to two men, both accused of sexual assault.  In the past weeks, a former staff assistant for Joe Biden, Tara Reade, has come forward accusing Biden of sexual assault back in 1993.  According to what I have heard, her story has evolved from "uncomfortable touching" to outright assault, and people who have commented on her allegations have said things from "she never described the assault to me" to "oh, yes, she told me exactly what happened." 

Last week, my son showed me a news clip and said, "It's about Joe Biden".  When the clip was finished, I asked him if he understood what they were talking about.  When he said no, I said that Biden was being accused of treating a woman in a way she shouldn't be treated.  I then said -- and yes, I used the exact word -- that I didn't know if he had raped her or kissed her when she didn't want to be kissed, but if he was guilty of any of that, I wouldn't feel comfortable voting for him for president.

The minute the words left my mouth, I realized the position I had just put myself in.  You see, I've seriously thought of voting for Biden just to get Trump out of office.  (Yes, I believe Trump is that bad.  I think he's incompetent as a leader and he has done little, if anything, to discourage people from stirring up xenophobia and from leading armed protests about "stay-at-home" orders in certain states.  Last week, after reading a headline, "Will a new great depression dictate Trump's fate?"  my frustrated response was, "I hope it does!"  When a friend asked me if I hoped for things to get worse, I said, no, I didn't; I just wanted him out of office.) 

But, if I wouldn't feel comfortable having Biden in the White House, and I won't vote for Trump, what do I do?

As Jimmy Stewart said in It's A Wonderful Life when he discovered that Donna Reed was hiding naked in the hydrangea bushes, "This is a very interesting situation!"

Libertarian Justin Amash entered the presidential race last week.  He could, if he knows how to work his campaign right, draw away enough votes from one candidate to get the other elected; or possibly split the vote enough to throw the election into the House of Representatives. 

No, I am not looking for a perfect presidential candidate.  No, we are not electing a pastor.  Yes, other presidents -- see JFK and FDR -- have also been guilty of adultery while providing leadership to our country. 

But is it too much to ask for a leader who has character and morality and self-control?

Is it too much to ask for a candidate that has character?

While we're pondering that question, let's sing our theme song:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation. 

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Days 45-48

The inability of families to gather together and grieve just hit home with us this morning.

My husband's brother died this morning of throat cancer, and we can't go and be with the family.

I don't know what sort of memorial they may be planning, whether they'll have a very small funeral and a larger memorial service later, or if they have other plans.

This particular brother-in-law leaves behind a wife, and also two kids that are either in their late teens or early 20's.  I am not certain of their actual ages, but my son is 21 and they are both a little younger than he is.  When I told my husband that that wasn't a good time to lose a dad, he pointed out to me that no time is a good time to lose a dad.

It stinks not to be able to be with family during a difficult time.


A friend of mine just had a granddaughter and wasn't able to go to the hospital to be with her daughter.  She has finally gotten to see the baby.  (I am of the opinion that all babies are cute and all brides are beautiful.) 

This is yet another reason this virus totally stinks.

In other news, technology worked against us on Sunday; we had a problem where some people could get onto the platform we use for online church and some couldn't.  Matthew could.  Frank and I couldn't.  The problem was eventually fixed (thank you, tech team!) . . . just in time for our power to go out at the end of service!

Neither situation was our fault.  The first was a technical problem that the experts had to solve.  The second was the result of a power transformer that blew up.  We got power back within less than a half hour.  Other people in my neighborhood were not so lucky.  They had to wait longer.  While I dislike inconveniences, I hope I realize that much of what I am dealing with right now is inconvenience, and we'll get through it.

But losing a family member and not being able to be with them?  That's not an inconvenience.  That is a situation that just plain stinks.  And too many people are in that situation.  Some of those deaths are from COVID and the family can't be with them due to the nature of the illness.  Some of those deaths are from family members in another city or state where you can't travel to be with them. 

In this case, snark may or may not help:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!  Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 43-44

Yesterday I melted down.

Not only did I melt down, I think I took Frank and Matthew with me.

Matthew has a practice job interview on Monday.  All week, his teacher has been giving assignments to her students, such as watching a video about job interviewing and completing assignments about answering interview questions.

Friday, Matthew's teacher first said that no one had turned in an assignment she had posted in their discussion area.  So, after virtual class, I decided to delegate the job of finding that assignment to Frank and Matthew.  Frank has been telling me that I need to delegate.  I figured this was a good opportunity.

Well . . . it took me helping them, but we did find the link to the assignment.  It linked to a Google document . . .  which we did not have permission to open.

I emailed Matthew's teacher, who may have fixed the problem because later on, we were able to get to the assignment, print it out, and have Matthew fill in the questions.

The problem came when we tried to fill out the Google document online.

We couldn't do it.

I got so frustrated I went downstairs and yelled at Frank.

He went upstairs and tried to fill it out. 

He could not fill out the Google document.

So he got the idea to scan the document Matthew filled out and send it to his teacher.

I thought it was too much work but I did go along with it.

I couldn't get the scanner to work.

In the meantime, Matthew is watching me and Frank is occasionally watching me.

Matthew dislikes dealing with technology anyway, except when it comes to streaming video.  This whole debacle did not help matters.

Finally, I told Matthew that we would deal with it tomorrow.  And then I cried on Frank's shoulder.

I also put out a scream on Facebook, which prompted a call from my BFF.

I cried on her shoulder.  Part of my FB scream was also about Trump's comments about bleach and disinfectant.  I am not going to go into that here, except to say, I am so sick of political spin. 

BFF reminded me that we are dealing with a crisis:  COVID-19, a shaky economy, and an election coming up, and I am dealing with, basically, homeschooling a kid with the help of the public school system.  (She also gave me more bad news:  as much as I might be tempted to kill someone over this whole mess, I'm not allowed because she has no bail money to bail me out of jail.) 

She calmed me down, reminded me that we'd get through this, and pointed out -- after I said I'd eaten some chocolate before I had my meltdown -- that chocolate should not be rationed during times like these. 

We ended up having a good conversation with lots of laughter, and after I hung up, I had a chat with my husband.

Today was a new day, and after finding the installation CD for my printer, I reinstalled the software, re-set everything up, and after a few mispunched buttons, FINALLY scanned the document and sent it to Matthew's teacher.

That saga is now over.

Now, I need to go to my Saturday chores of cleaning the bathroom.  I enjoy that chore so much that I am sitting here writing on the blog rather than clean the bathroom.  (Note sarcasm here.)   

The other source of my frustration was trying to hang some shelving in my office.  After trying, failing, and staring at all the stuff I'd brought up and thinking that I just didn't have the energy to bring it down, I finally got the idea to use some different wall anchors.  Those works.  So far, the shelf is still standing.

One of the tools I brought up is a hammer.

Which will be used as a motivation (read, threat) to the computer, printer, and other technology if it ever causes me to melt down again!

Deep breath, and into our theme song:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 42

It finally got to me over the past weekend.

I participated in my first drive-by birthday party.  It was the 50th birthday of a friend of mine who's also the assistant of our church's youth minister.  Matthew knows her well.  Her husband texted people and told what he was planning, and I was eager to participate.

Friday, her friends got together, and between five and five-fifteen that evening, we all caused a traffic backup that even got noticed on Waze!  We drove by our friend's house and yelled out the window, "Happy birthday!" as she and her family sat in the front yard and waved back.  On Facebook the following day, she posted, "I can't even . . ."  She was touched.  Some cars drove by decorated with "Happy birthday!", others, like ours, just contained people that yelled out the window to her.

I saw faces I hadn't seen since March 8th, the last time we were together as a church, and it told me how much I missed so many people.

Then Sunday, I participated in our online service yet again, and it hit me again, how much I missed everyone.  I wanted to cry.  My son has asked about our VBS, which is being postponed, and every week, he adds up the number of dollars (one per week) he hasn't contributed since we've been gone. 

When Governor Kemp announced the lifting of the shelter-in-place order this week, it was a much-needed shot to my morale.  I could finally see light at the end of the tunnel.  It would be over.

But then, the backlash and pushback began (even from President Trump), and it was back to demoralization again.

My local Christian station, 104.7 The Fish, has been playing the song "Way Maker" at just before 7 a.m. the last few days.  Morning co-host Kevin Avery says that this song has become an "anthem" for many health care workers, so they have been playing it at a time when shifts change in many hospitals.  I'm writing this on Wednesday, to be posted Thursday, and all day, the lyrics have been running in my head.  Here they are, for those interested:

You are here
Moving in our midst
I worship You
I worship You

You are here
Working in this place
I worship You
I worship You

You are here
Moving in our midst
I worship You
I worship You

You are here
Working in this place
I worship You
I worship You

Waymaker
Miracle Worker
Promise Keeper
Light in the darkness
My God
That is who You are

Waymaker
Miracle Worker
Promise Keeper
Light in the darkness
My God
That is who You are

You are here
Touching every heart
I worship You
I worship You

You are here
Healing every heart
I worship You
I worship You

You are here
Mending every heart
I worship You
I worship You

You are here
Turning lives around
I worship You
I worship You

Waymaker
Miracle Worker
Promise Keeper
Light in the darkness
My God
That is who You are

Waymaker
Miracle Worker
Promise Keeper
Light in the darkness
My God
That is who You are

That is who You are
That is who You are
That is who You are
That is who You are

Even when I don't see it You're working
Even when I can't feel it You're working
You never stop
You never stop working
You never stop
You never stop working
Even when I don't see it You're working
Even when I can't feel it You're working
You never stop
You never stop working
You never stop
You never stop working

Waymaker
Miracle Worker
Promise Keeper
Light in the darkness
My God
That is who You are ...

One day, one day, we will be back together as a body; and one day, one day, I look forward to raising my hands and singing with everyone.  Maybe this song will be on the playlist. 

Until then, I will wait; and I will trust in the Waymaker.

In the meantime, I think even He will appreciate my snark:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 33-41

I can see just by the title how long it's been since I've written anything.  (A shout-out to my FB friend Colleen, who told me this morning that she missed my virus updates.)

I don't know if what I'm seeing right now is more of man's unlimited capacity for unselfishness and service or man's unlimited capacity for stupidity and nastiness.

Of the former, we see/hear it every day as we hear/see the stories of doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel on the front lines fighting this illness.  I see it when I see my preacher posting podcasts and hear him doing his sermons week after week, and our tech team making it possible for him to do so.  I see it when I see people wearing Instacart T-shirts, and when I watch commercials (like I am right now) that honor the people who are working round the clock.  I see it when my son goes to his class website and his teacher has faithfully posted the class assignment for today, and when she does her Google Meet sessions with her students.

Of the latter, well, I see too much of it online, especially when it comes to "reopening the economy".  It's like, if we open up the economy now, "OMG, we're all gonna die!"  Or, if we keep the economy shut, "OMG, we're all gonna die!"

Our governor, Brian Kemp, has decided to let his shelter-in-place order expire on April 30th.  On Friday, selected businesses -- nail salons, barber shops, and others will be allowed to reopen, following social distancing guidelines.  Houses of worship will be allowed to reopen, again, following social distancing guidelines.

There are the angry people screaming, "It's too soon!" and the other angry people screaming back, "People need to make a living!"  (And I am not happy with the name calling I see on Facebook.)

I don't know what to think.  I'm not an elected official, I'm not a doctor, I'm not an economist.

I've been dealing with my own total frustrations over the past couple of days.  My son's very anxious about using technology (although he can stream video just fine :-) ) His anxiety rubs off on me, mine rubs off on him.  And when I get anxious, it takes me nearly half the day to come down from the anxiety. 

I'm also terribly frustrated because the projects I want to do aren't getting done.  I've had to switch office areas with my husband, and trying to get mine organized has been an exhibit of the Second Law of Thermodynamics:  all closed systems tend to maximize disorder!

So today, after dealing with computer problems and trying to come down from a high level of anxiety, I decided to go shopping and go take a walk at a nearby park.  We needed groceries and I needed exercise.

I wore a mask for the first time.  It's an N95 that we had in the garage, one with a piece of metal at the top to help the mask hold its shape.  Said piece of metal also dug into the bridge of my nose the entire time I was wearing it.  Ow.  (Perhaps no picture speaks so strongly to the physical toll of this epidemic on medical personnel than the picture of a nurse's face bruised from the effects of wearing a face mask.  And I'll bet they don't get the chance to have their face heal before they have to put a new one on!) 

The major thing I noticed wearing this mask? 

People can't see you smile.

That definitely stank.

After doing my shopping, I went to the park and did two laps around the pond (which equals approximately one mile).  And here was where I saw the personification of mankind's unlimited capacity for stupidity.

The park I went to has a playground.

Which is taped off with yellow crime scene tape.

Which a person old enough to know better had crawled under in order to climb on the playground equipment!

Okay, maybe I should have said something.  I didn't.  I wasn't sure if it would have done any good. But if I had said something, it would have been, "Excuse me, but what part of 'playground closed' do you not understand?"

This is why we can't have nice things, people.

And it's also why, if there is a second wave of illness, it's going to be as bad, if not worse than, the first wave.


So, let's all raise our voices together:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 32

One month ago today I started writing.  While I had meant for this to be a daily chronicle of life under COVID-19, I have been unable to write every day.  But I have done my best to chronicle as best I can what I'm experiencing and what I'm observing in the world around me.

Today I am very tense both because I'm trying to help my son with assignments online and also from a discussion on Facebook.  I have very nearly lost my patience with those who say, "But, the flu!" or "But, abortion!" when the death rates from COVID-19 are discussed.  I hear, "Well, why don't we shut down the country every flu season?"  Or, "Why aren't we this upset about the millions of innocent lives sacrificed to abortion?"

At the moment, Facebook is running slow, or I would be shutting down a thread that is threatening to devolve into an abortion argument.  I've dealt with two threads already that have been arguing about COVID-19 and our responses to it, whether or not the statistics are correct, whether or not we should build up our herd immunity, and also "But, the flu!" and "But, abortion!" 

I unfriended and blocked someone who got very rude in her comments, especially when the subject of abortion came up.  A friend commented that outlawing abortion would result in women dying; she could have died from a difficult pregnancy.  The reply she got in response:  "I hope you repent of your murder."  The friend had been told by a doctor that if she continued to lose weight as the result of severe morning sickness, she might have to have an abortion in order to save her life.  She did go on to have that baby. 

Another thread, in which I commented that "abortion is a complex issue" has resulted in another discussion that I hope is not about to evolve out of control.  One person commented that the remarks she got about how she was a murderer because she had an ectopic pregnancy and had to abort her baby (which would not have survived and might have killed the mother) was one of the reasons she walked away from Christianity.  That broke my heart.  Sometimes we who call ourselves Christians can be so unkind to people. 

I am really tired of people "piggybacking" (to borrow a word from another FB friend) their own issues onto the COVID-19 outbreak here in the US.  And while many Christians I know of have stepped up and been the hands and feet of Christ in this outbreak, many Christians have shown a very selfish side, demanding that their "rights" to meet together take precedence over the public health threat we have.  Some have defied government orders outlawing gatherings of ten or more. 

(Incidentally, I don't see this happening with synagogues and mosques or other houses of worship in the US.  I don't see them demanding their "rights" to meet together.  Only certain groups of Christians.  But it could be that the reason I don't see it is because such articles are not showing up on my radar.  I suspect that there are those who will say that it's only Christians who are targeted by enforcement of such laws but that mosques and synagogues aren't.)

There are also those who don't trust the CDC, don't trust the information coming from the US government, don't trust doctors because they are "tools of the deep state" or "owned by George Soros" or whatever reason they have for not trusting them.  Look, I believe in having a healthy skepticism, but for God's sake, who do you trust, then??

There are those who want the economy reopened, now, or by a particular date, because they fear a collapsing economy and suicides as the result of a collapsing economy.  I can only say that we can rebuild an economy but we can't bring back the dead, and if we open the economy too soon, might we end up killing off the people we need to rebuild our economy?

I really do not know what to say to people who are dead set on believing what it is they want to believe, and being rude to people who do not agree with them.  I don't know what to do about the economy; when do we open things up?  I don't know if it's safe.  I don't know if this is just the beginning of the government taking away our freedom to move wherever we wish or worship however we wish.  I don't know if there are those in charge who will treat this situation as a power grab.  I. Just. Do. Not. Know.

I do know that there is very little excuse for deliberate unkindness to people, especially in these days when we need all the kindness we can get.

Today I will breathe and find a way to decompress.

Until then, let's all join together in our theme song:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!


Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 31

Today was Easter.

This was the Easter of isolation, the Easter of online services and drive-in church and quarantine.

This was also the Easter of distant connections, of preachers preaching over YouTube and Facebook Live, of praise teams singing due to previous recordings . . . and of choirs and singers singing separately, uploading their parts, and sending them to technicians who, through the magic of editing, turned it into a virtual performance.

The tech team at my own church did just that, combining a large handful of voices singing "At The Cross".  I was amazed.  And very touched.

In England, the Royal Choral Society did a virtual performance of the Hallelujah Chorus, keeping up their tradition of performing every year since 1876, except during the Blitz in World War II.  

This was the Easter where we sat isolated in our homes, much like the first disciples sat, but not with "the doors locked for fear of the Jews" (i.e. the Jewish rulers in that time and place).  We have not cowered in fear but we have hunkered down in hope. 

The disciples needed a real Mary Magdalene to tell them, Jesus isn't in the tomb!  And even when two of them ran to the empty tomb, they still didn't believe He'd been resurrected.  They still hid behind a locked door . . . but one that Jesus could walk through to tell them, "Peace be with you!"  

We are not hiding behind locked doors this Easter because we fear being arrested and persecuted for our faith.  Rather, we are hunkering down in hope that there will be a light at the end of the tunnel, that the threat of disease will someday lessen enough for us to resume somewhat of a normal life and normal activity. 

Some are making this Easter about violation of rights, violation of our First Amendment "freedom of religion".  At least one church in suburban Louisville gathered in defiance of their governor's order banning gatherings of groups of ten or more.  Perhaps other churches have met in similar ways, claiming that they are not afraid and that we should not live our lives in fear. 

People, even Jesus left an area when people were thinking of killing him.  He stayed away from places where he thought that he might be arrested.  He was smart enough to tell Satan himself that the Bible said, don't put God to the test when Satan said that, "God will save you if you jump from the temple" and even quoted Scripture to 'prove' it.

If mosques, synagogues, and temples were being told they could gather and Christian churches were not, I'd be worried that my freedom of religion in the United States was being abridged and I would be very concerned.  That might be a case for "we must obey God rather than man".  

But defying a public health order is not the way to show that you have faith in God and will not let your life be ruled by fear.  It is a way to make yourself look stupid.

Fortunately, most Christians I know have spent this Easter in isolation, in this hunkering down in hope, communicating through text and Zoom and Facebook Live and Google Meet and however else they choose to communicate.

Because we know that, no matter what, He is risen.  He is risen indeed!

Okay, back to the snark alert:

It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it

And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina’s TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 30

Day 30.  Tomorrow will be Easter, and nothing, no virus, will stop us Christians from proclaiming, “He is risen.  He is risen indeed!”

I spent part of the day going through and throwing out papers and most of this evening building a table to put my sewing machine on.  

Now enjoying chilling out with my husband and humming our theme song:

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 29

Those of you my age and older, and maybe a little bit younger (I'm 56) will remember how Walter Cronkite used to end his CBS Evening News broadcasts during 1980:  "And that's the way it is, [date], the [number] day of captivity for the hostages in Iran."  (Those of you born in 1970 or after, check out this Wikipedia article.)

That's sort of how I feel in counting down the days in semi-quarantine, semi-lockdown, whatever it is you want to call it. 

I've been sick for the last couple of days.  Fortunately, I'm on the mend today and will get back into some sort of routine.  I want to start writing again, start blogging again in a consistent way.  I have my frustrations with religion (hopefully, not with God or with Jesus).  He is good.  His followers, including myself, leave much to be desired at times. 

Today is Good Friday.  Christians take today to remember the death of Jesus on the cross.  Theologians wiser and more educated than I am have spilled thousands of gallons of ink to explain all of the implications of Jesus' death on the cross.  I have a reasonably high IQ, and to be honest, I just prefer some very simple explanations at times. 

Jesus died on the cross as the perfect sacrifice for our sins -- for the bad things we do, for the ways in which we disappoint and displease God.  He did this because he chose to. He was perfect because He was God in the flesh.  God raised Him from the dead as the final victory over death.  If we believe that, if we decide that we want to do what pleases God, and we are sorry for doing what doesn't please God, we can turn to Him and say, I'm sorry for doing things that don't please you.  I want to live a life that pleases You and I need Your help to do it.  I can't do this in my own power and strength.  I need you.  And then, to show that commitment, to show that decision, we are baptized.  (I know there are differing understandings and interpretations of baptism and the necessity of baptism.  My understanding that is that "baptism" means "immersion in water in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of your sins and to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit; according to Acts 2:38 and Matthew 28:18-20.) 

And once we turn to God, He gives us the Holy Spirit to help us live as He wants us to.  His first and greatest command is to love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love others as we love ourselves.  From that flows everything we are to do as Christians.

If you read my blog, if you read my social media posts, if you know me in real life, you will also know that I fall short more times than I want to admit I do.  I wish I did not.  I hurt people.  I struggle with holding grudges and with forgiving people who have hurt me.  I often think I am better than 'those people', whoever 'those people' happen to be at that particular moment.  I lose my patience with people, especially with family!  I get angry at God and demand that He explain himself.  My study of the Bible leaves much to be desired at times.  And even if I'm able to have a day where I behave perfectly . . . well, there are always the things I know to do and don't do, which, according to James 4:17,  is sin.

But there is also grace.  There is also forgiveness.  Neither of which I have earned by my good deeds.  And no, I don't want to abuse grace by saying, "I can do whatever I want because there's always grace and God will forgive!"  But I need grace because I am a sinner, I have a sinful nature, and I cannot just simply gut it out, tough it out, suck it up, make plans, lists, how-to's, to-do's, etc. to keep from sinning.  I need someone outside myself. 

Which is why I am grateful for grace.  Thankful for Good Friday and for Easter Sunday, for a God who gives it freely without demanding my performance in order to earn it.

Okay, that's my Good Friday meditation. 

But in keeping with the theme of snark, let's end with our theme song:

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 24

Day 24.  It's already Day 24?  

It's now become the routine to log onto the Internet and sign into our virtual church website, rather than pack up the car and drive to the church building.  There are things I like about "virtual church", especially the "virtual lobby" where we can chat with each other before our session starts. 

But writing the above sounds like something out of a science fiction novel, out of a Ray Bradbury or Isaac Asimov story.  

It is just not the same as approaching someone in real life, feeling a tactile hug, the polyester knit or cotton cloth of someone's dress or suit against your face when you hug them; feeling the squeeze of their arms around you, hearing them ask how you are.  Smelling the coffee in the lobby area, hearing the praise team warming up, standing up to pray, sitting down in the pews, being able to talk face to face with your preacher or with your fellow church members.  

How long, I wonder, before we will all be able to do that again?

But today, still imprisoned by an invisible virus, we listened to our preacher, whose words are not imprisoned.  (Paul reminded Timothy in 2 Timothy that "God's word is not chained.")  I took away two important points from his sermon today:

1.  Just because you feel the fear doesn't mean you don't have faith.   It's okay to accept the circumstances of where we are at the moment.  My go-to phrase, it seems, has become "That stinks" because what we are dealing with right now, let's face it, does stink.  When I'm exceptionally bothered, I will use the phrase, "That sucks."  Certain things do suck right now.  Staying home gets old.  There is only so much organizing you can do before you organize yourself out of your own house.  There is only so much cleaning you can do.  There are only so many times I can listen to some of my husband's and son's conversations.  There are only so many times they can listen to mine.  

The circumstances of where we are are fearful ones.  I've started to worry when I go out, am I going to pick up the virus?  Am I going to get sick or maybe make my husband or son sick?  Today my son and I went for a fast trip to pick up French fries (which weren't in the order I picked up at Kroger yesterday because they weren't available.)  I think I freaked Matthew out when I wiped down the handle of the grocery cart with a wipe before he took it back to the carrel.  But the thing is, my fear is not unfounded these days.  If any of you remember the TV series Monk, about a detective with obsessive-compulsive disorder, he carried around wipes wherever he went.  Most of his fears were unfounded . . . but these days, worrying that you just might get sick from a trip to the grocery store isn't necessarily unfounded.

Yeah, I admit, I feel fear.  I am glad our preacher said today that feeling fear didn't mean you didn't have faith.   I dislike it when people who have fear and who express their fear are shamed for it.  "Don't you know that there are 365 'fear nots' in the Bible?  That's one for each day!"  "We're not slaves of fear!  We have the spirit of God!"  Well, Jesus did tell his disciples not to be afraid, but he never shamed them for feeling the fear. 

2.  Sometimes you have to behave better than you feel.  Don, our preacher, mentioned that he disliked the phrase "fake it till you make it".  It's a phrase that's often used in recovery.  I think, though, that "behaving better than you feel" may be what people sometimes mean when they say "fake it till you make it".  There are times when I want to yell at my son, at my husband, behave badly to people in public.  But I can't.  Or rather, I choose not to because the consequences of my momentary loss of temper could be very severe.  (There are people in Washington, DC that I wish would learn the lesson of behaving better than you feel!)

Don also talked about fatigue:  flu fatigue, virus fatigue, staying at home fatigue.  I have it.  It is hard, being under "stay at home" orders, knowing you can't go out when you want to and where you want to.  It's even harder, exponentially harder, when you are one of those on the "front lines", delivering groceries, checking people out at the store, nursing the ill, caring for the ill, trying to minister in whatever way you need to.  And I cannot put myself in the shoes of someone who IS ill, or a loved one of someone who is ill or dying.

This afternoon I took a nap, to deal with the physical fatigue.  And I am poking around on my genealogy and working on other writing.  Perhaps that will be a couple of things that will help with the "lockdown fatigue". 

I shared tonight in our small group's Zoom meeting that spring would always come, and that summer and winter would not cease.

I also told them what I shared with the checkout person at the grocery store today.

Matthew made a comment about Easter, and I said that Easter was going to be next week.  The checkout girl said, "If they let us."  I said, "I don't know if you're Christian or not (she said she was) but nothing can stop us from saying that Jesus is risen."  

That is a fact that no flu fatigue, no coronavirus, no lockdown, no stay at home order can circumvent or reverse.  Jesus will not go back into the grave just because we are on lockdown!

Spring will come.  Easter will come.  Resurrection will be remembered. 

In the meantime, let me put my tongue firmly in cheek and sing our theme song:

It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it

And I feel fine!

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.