December Sweeps - Day 308

Wow, this has been a hard day.

I suppose you caught my announcement/confession yesterday that I tested positive for the Coronavirus.

I didn't expect to spend the whole next day feeling sorry for myself.  

But of course, that's my character.  Nobody feels sorry for themselves better than I do, it's practically a superpower.  I ought to ask Fake Sean to do a parody of Carly Simon's James Bond theme about it.

But this was different.  I felt lonely and dirty.  I was relegated to my room, and my nephews were told not to go near me.  I wore a mask when I was outside of my room, but what is a mask to a leper?

You get that, don't you?

For the last eight or nine months, I've heard people talk about how hard it has been to self-isolate, to stay away from friends and parties and concerts and the genitals of previous-strangers.  And introverts like me thought, "Why is it such a big deal?  Just go straight home from work, and wake up to find nobody there--the rest of us do it all the time."

But I get it now, at least a little bit.

There's that girl that I've thought about to a sickening degree in 2020, and it's highly likely that I'll not see her again this year (or ever, I suppose), and that's a vivid, awful concept.

Death is a pretty vivid concept too.

Well, I might as well keep up the theme:

My favorite scene from 1978's DAWN OF THE DEAD is when Roger, infected by the bites and getting sicker and sicker is about to die.  He tells his friend Peter that, when he goes, he's going to try not to come back.  "I'm gonna try . . . not to," he says.

There's something really human in this moment, especially since Roger was the loudest, most careless of the four main characters during the rest of the film, and now, he is at his most vulnerable, and there's no hope left for him.  Or for any of us.

Actually, it's not fair to call that my favorite scene.  That movie is filled with favorite scenes.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In December: 569

This was the first Saturday in a long, long time I've not gone to the library on.  I even went last week when Jeff was in town, because I felt like I had to (and ended up never seeing him again because of my choice).  So, it was disappointing, as far as writing goes.

In fact, I keep asking myself what's the point of writing?  And blogging?  There's a reason I haven't published this yet, and we're nearly a week later.  Guess I'll go ahead and do that now.

Words Today: Now, that's strange--I don't remember what I worked on, only that I wouldn't let myself go to sleep until I got my writing done.  

Oh, yeah, now I remember.  I sat down and started another "Dead & Breakfast" story where Mason Bradley's seventh grade teacher comes to the B&B and he is tempted to warn her about the ghosts.  But I didn't know where it was going (still don't).  Still counts as writing, though.

Words Today: 853
Words In December: 3257