Roomatism

It's Monday afternoon as I write this and Kathy and I have had a decent if low-key morning following a decent if low-key weekend. Kathy mostly naps, although she alternately makes a compelling argument that she's never actually sleeping. All I know is that we're not making enough noise in this room for the neighbors to complain.

Daughter J visited multiple times over the past several days, Kathy is in no particular distress (though is visibly weakening day by day), and I have discovered that the Karmic price of stealing Kathy's uneaten "mehanical-soft" institutional food is a constantly roiling gut and copious, sonorous flatulence.

Speaking of which, that concert I co-wrote that played in Fort Worth last weekend was a big hit, and it actually contains an ode to flatulence called "The Toot Suite."  Why a world class symphony was playing such a proposterous thing is a story for another day. Because eventually there WILL be another day and what I hope are pretty good and unexpected stories from my scarlet past. (I swear I just imagined M. Mitchell Marmel saying "Frankly, Stilton, we don't give a damn" and posting a laughing emoji).

Kathy asked today if I'd been posting to Johnny Optimism and I told her that Johnny had been on hiatus since the new year came in, but that he'd be coming back in the future because that little guy and his friends help me drain a lot of bile from my soul. Plus rueful laughter is halfway to laughter of the kind that doesn't scare people and make them move away from you. Kathy understands Johnny and what he means to me, and approves of the mission continuing. Plus, it turns out that there are a lot of nurses who like sick jokes.

I titled this post "Roomatism" because I'm unsure whether I'm going to eventually leave this facility with a horrible fear of being closed in a room, or a horrible fear of emerging from a room. Currently, I really REALLY want to spend time outside. Although it sounds like this coming weekend that might be a good way to freeze to death in North Dallas. 

And speaking of being indoors and outdoors, I no longer have any idea (did anyone, ever?) what to think about Covid protocols. I guess I'll keep avoiding social occasions where people are unmasked, "social occasions" being defined as being with anyone other than my daughter. Mind you, I'd LIKE some human interaction and support, but I just can't get that from masked people. Maybe I'll learn how to make zoom calls. Whee.

I think I recently saw an article in which the CDC was saying the best way to keep from getting Omicron is to avoid groups of unvaccinated people. But last time I gave a rat's ass, I seem to recall that both vaccinated and unvaccinated people could catch, carry, and transmit the virus. Which would sort of make tht CDC advice unscientific bullshit, right? I don't know...and medical science and I are going to have a pretty chilly relationship for awhile anyway.

Not that medical science would want to cuddle up to me anyway; I think today marks officially two weeks since I've had a shower. I changed my shirt once, though, so I'm pretty sure I'm good. And here's a time-saving lifehack I've developed: just sleep in your damn clothes - in the morning you're ready to go!

Well, I'm not fooling anyone that this is anything other than rambling just as an excuse to spend time with you good people, and raise the virtual population inside this room. I share your comments with Kathy and they all mean a lot to us. Keep 'em coming, keep us in your thoughts and prayers and, if you encounter me in the hall here, keep your distance - seriously, two weeks without a shower. Yeesh.

PS: A special shout-out to Mary the moonlight power walker (Kathy says "hi!")