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Reset Five, Days One and Two [May. 22nd, 2020|11:10 am]
So I'm awake at the ungodly hour of almost nine AM, and since that's daylight saving time it's actually not even real eight AM yet. That's a time of day when normal people are awake. How the hell did I get here? Well, it started around ten o'clock Thursday night, when I thought I might lie down on the bed for a few minutes to straighten out a kink in my back, and apparently got so relaxed that I fell asleep. I remember waking up sometime later, though not having a functional clock handy I don't know how much later, but as I was feeling a bit chilly I tossed a throw over myself and went back to sleep. The next time I woke up, wondering if it was midnight yet, I glanced at the window and saw a blurry line of daylight below the blinds. Oh, crap.

Realizing that I'd slept all night, I got up and made my way to a functional clock and saw that it was almost six AM. That means that on Thursday night I never ate dinner, and never wrote a journal entry. I've spent the time since then in the usual daze that comes with a major disruption in my sleep pattern, and enduring the usual muddle-headedness that in variably accompanies it. The day is probably beyond salvaging already. I have no idea what I'm going to do with it. The sun is one the wrong side of the sky! Plus I'm sneezing. The plants, if they had brains and a sense of humor, would probably think this is hilarious. Hey, let's spew pollen all over the dumb guy.

In normal times I'd probably seize the unexpected opportunity and hop on a bus and go explore Chico's mini-downtown or go to the library or whatever, but the times are not normal. Most places are still closed, and I have no desire to board a Butte County Vector System bus at this time anyway. This is particularly true because the case spike I was expecting after seeing how much traffic there was when I went out a few weeks ago appears to be here. The number of cases in the county crept up from 16 then into the low twenties, and in the last few days has jumped to 31. Doubling in a few weeks is not a rapid rate by the standards of many places, but it is here. Butte County has been very lucky, even for California, which has been lucky (and fairly smart so far compared to, say, New York) but it looks like the luck has run out. I need to make a run to at least one store soon, and I'm not even slightly happy about it. I'd say we're still early in this spike, and risk has increased dramatically already, and will only get worse a time passes. I should chomp that bullet and get it over with.

And now it's going on eleven o'clock. I've been putzing around with this and that, and coming back to write a few more lines, then going putzing again. If I can keep this up long enough I won't have to decide what to do with the day because the day will be gone. Not a very satisfying solution, but a solution of sorts. But right now I should probably eat something. I had some orange juice and then some iced tea with milk and a couple of cookies earlier, but now I think I need something more. Maybe a sandwich on some of that bread that's been in the refrigerator for three weeks or so. I'll toast it, so it won't seem as stale as it really is.

Boy, do I hate pandemics— but not as much as I hate the assholes in power who incompetently or willfully fail to manage them properly.