My brother’s got it.
I won’t make any (public) assumptions about an ultra-conservative who lives in Montana…
Another friend has tested positive. We’re waiting to see if he gets symptoms. We’re also waiting to see if his wife tests positive. Then we will be waiting to see if she gets symptoms.
Then, we will see if I test positive and develop symptoms since ten days ago I was in their home.
Meanwhile, I called one son to say, “Please, please reconsider traveling for Thanksgiving.”
His response, “We’re already in The Springs with _________’s family who are trickling in from all directions. But we’re not spending the holiday here, we’re going to the Front Range to see _________’s sister, brother, brother’s girlfriend, sister’s husband, etc.”
What. The Actual. Fuck.
I’m afraid to even see TAM tonight because I feel toxic and meanwhile, my child is running all over kingdom come breathing the air of 52,000 other people, but since they’re family, it’s safe?????????
One of the other children is about to head to California for a wedding.
The third, well, I just know he’s not sporting a mask. I could barely get him to wear a shirt when he still lived at home.
So, my kids are idiots. Nothing I didn’t know, but I hoped maybe they’d grown out of it by now.
I figure it’s inevitable that one of my boys is going to get it. I just have to cross my fingers that he/they doesn’t get really sick because there’s nothing I can do about it at this point.
And since they no longer live at home, I don’t even get the privilege of yelling at them.
I have been so careful. My best friend came over yesterday. We sat outside shivering as clouds darkened the sky. Six feet apart, we had to yell to be heard across the distance and over the howling wind. When it began to rain, instead of coming inside, she left. I haven’t seen my kids in months, even though they live less than an hour away.
And now, clearly, since my children’s ideas about being safe are drastically different than mine (and also quite unrealistic) I’m am facing not seeing my kiddos for many months to come.
They suck, really. I’d like to kill them all.
I thought that the desire to dispose of my children would diminish once they were no longer toddlers.
With it coming so close, I’m finding myself less terrified and more resigned. I’m no longer looking at “if,” instead assuming “when.”
Numbers in my town, my county, my state, are increasing every minute, just like everywhere else but American Samoa. I now know people who have tested positive.
It is only a matter of time before I know someone who ends up hospitalized, or on a respirator, or dead. In the beginning, last spring, we were afraid because we didn’t know what was coming. Now we are afraid because we do know what’s coming.
And there’s not much we can do about it.
There was a LOT that we could have done about it, but we’re not rule-followers here in the Wild West. We have our guns to protect us so why bother with a mask?
So, no surprise to anyone, here it comes.
I sit in my little house, not wanting to go out because I might be toxic. As careful as I have been, I need to be more so.
So, I will paint my fingernails, shop online (mostly for cute facial coverings), write my Governor pleading for a mask-mandate, and watch all 8 seasons of Bewitched.
And hope for the best.