During the time of Covid-19

There are women in the lobby playing cards, groups waiting for the mail man to arrive, groups just sitting around talking. I have stayed in my room except to pick up mail so far, but it is difficult. I get a good feeling from chatting for a while with whoever is in the lobby and I miss it. I know that, eventually, I will throw caution to the wind and go sit down and visit. 

A letter to all residents today from management clarified the visitors issue. No visitors. So that should eliminate the children playing in the hallways while the grand parents babysit. I sympathize. The parents must  work as long as they can. The kids are out of school. Grandma or Pa are free all day so they can watch the kids. 

If they had only kept the kids in their own apartments it would have probably been okay. But inch to a mile applies here.

I did go outside to walk today. Alexa said it was 65F, but there was a cold wind so I walked to the next building and back right smart.

Called Kenneth, left a message. 1 734 878 0725

Called Ivy. She is coming over to visit. She is not working with pay for now.

Do you put a period at the end of a sentence that ends in a numeral? Of course you do.

Who will live?  Will any of us come out of this alive?

Will I be willing to risk gasping for 6 days before I die ?  Bottom line, yeah.  I think people need each other as much as they need food, at least for any semblance of sanity. I'm speaking for me.

This sounds odd, coming from me, who is universally characterized as anti-social, but the truth is I want to be with people of my choice at times of my choice for only as long as I choose. Don't we all?

I can't wrap my head around it yet, but I think that on the other side of whatever this turns out to be will be a radically different world. Signs on the internet vary, but I see people reaching out to each other in compassion and hope.

All that said, I've wondered, since I read the first lament that mankind may destroy itself, why that would be so terrible.

 If one believes in a god, particularly a Christian one, it seems we have been given this place to live and be and take care of and we have failed.   Even the most patient god would finally send a last chance challenge.   Maybe send it in the form of a virus that will do anything to live and conquer. 

And if we fail to help each other get through, if we continue as before, this god of my imagination would just wipe it's hands of us. Poof.

 If, like most artists, it, this god, needs to create to be satisfied, it might just start all over again, some other place, some other time, with some other beings.  Maybe with turtles next time.