Tuesday, March 24, 2020
We Can Do Hard Things, Tuesday 3/24/20
I've fallen into a sort of daze the last day or so, my body and mind fluid, amorphous. Taking care of Sophie has never been so easy. I feel nothing but tenderness toward her and none of the crackling anxiety and irritation at my role my plight my duties my responsibilities my aloneness. We.
This morning I woke up terrified but coffee the padding around the house my students the clicking of laptop keys a pan of brown butter cornbread the birds outside the dining room window the musty flowers on the table the piles of books a pink quartz a shell its sound in my ear dispelled the fear.
Reader, did you watch Dear Leader lie today? His white ringed eyes.
Carl told me that the Powers That Be in Washington have determined that a person with cognitive disabilities will not get a respirator should he or she or they need one. I said, We know that already. We is us. We know about the rationing of care.
Someone on Facebook commented that she hopes this actually will change everything. Why do I not believe it will change anything?