147//366

For the second time in less than a week they have shut the water off at my workplace and I have opted to go home early. I just don’t feel comfortable being there when I know I won’t be able to wash my hands as often and neither will my coworkers. It worked out great anyway because I needed to head to our west location free Covid-19 infection and antibody testing was being offered.

Before the shut down my wife had a nasty respiratory infection. I didn’t think much of it at the time, even though her symptoms were pretty bad. Now I wonder if she had a milder version. It’s possible, and it’s possible I was asymptomatic after being exposed. It’s much more possible she had a more common infection, and I didn’t get sick because we were careful to keep her in another part of the house and to disinfect high-touch areas even then.

Either way, I would like the peace of mind of knowing whether I may have any immunity or not, and whether others may have been put at risk or not.

I was home in time for lunch and spent the afternoon trying my best not to take a nap. It helped to stay at the desk, to make a list of the things I needed to do, and to have my wife sit across from me and work on her own projects to motivate me. I still have hours left to fill before bed time but as long as I stay well away from the couch or the bed I should be fine.


Going back to work means having less time in the morning to check the news or keep up with social media. After lunch I logged into Twitter and was quickly overwhelmed. I’d already heard about the confrontation in Central Park, but the stories seemed to have reached every corner of the internet, and then I saw the video of George Floyd being restrained by police officers. It hurt to watch. I’m still hurting. With everything that’s going on, you’d think the world would be coming together, but instead I only see more and more hate every day.

It isn’t just these incidents. The videos of protesters calling for us to accept more death and of essential workers and concerned citizens being spit and coughed on is weighing on me too. This amount of hurt only brings more hurt because every time we hurt one, we hurt the whole and when we kill one we kill a part of the whole we can never bring back. I wish more people knew that.

Published by

Lisa Marie Blair

Hello! I'm an aspiring writer fascinated by the human condition. You can find much of my work on my personal blog and at Zen and Pi. I also tweet as @lisamarieblair_ and share pictures and poetry on Instagram. Please consider signing up for my newsletter or supporting what I do by sharing a cup of virtual coffee. Thank you!

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