I miss my friends.
I miss the regulars.
I miss the guys from the Halfway House.
I want to know how he's doing, the bloke who seized and smashed his head open on my checkout. Who grabbed my hand after being loaded on the gurney and gave it a shake. I can't remember what he said. I wish I did. I wish I could.
That was one of the strangest moments of my life.
I hope he's OK.
It's a sad irony that all the not-straight people here are methheads. Druggies like him.
I want to be home.
These people have no idea how lucky they are. How sheltered. How privileged.
Sheer geographical distance and population density sheilding them from everything.
EVERYTHING.
I'd rather be home, with distance and ocean and petrol prices creating an inescapable boundary than here, in Dumbfuckistan Central, surrounded by spoiled idiots who can get away with assuming they are the totality of the world with no personal consequence.
I don't know if I caught Corona from one of them of from my wife's scrubs while doing the laundry.
What I do know is that every ignorant cunt who compares it to the flu has never had both.
I'd rather do three contiguous bouts of influenza followed by a bout of norovirus than have another round of "Wuhan Flu".
It was the most awful 1.5 weeks of health I've ever had and I could still breathe on my own. The dogs were happy that I napped with them so much, but needing a morning liedown and afternoon nap after 12+hrs of sleep and 3-8 cups of coffee IS NOT RIGHT.
I feel so bad for dry-heaving when I got the respiratory panel swabs done. I'm glad I put my head back in the corner of the passenger seat and the door so I couldn't get away from the swab. Made it a bit easier for her.
I knew what I was getting into, coming here. More or less. I didn't count on a repeat of the black flu but here we are.
Shit happens, and we have to continue.
At least the apocalypse nightmares are cooler than reality.
~Peri
I miss the regulars.
I miss the guys from the Halfway House.
I want to know how he's doing, the bloke who seized and smashed his head open on my checkout. Who grabbed my hand after being loaded on the gurney and gave it a shake. I can't remember what he said. I wish I did. I wish I could.
That was one of the strangest moments of my life.
I hope he's OK.
It's a sad irony that all the not-straight people here are methheads. Druggies like him.
I want to be home.
These people have no idea how lucky they are. How sheltered. How privileged.
Sheer geographical distance and population density sheilding them from everything.
EVERYTHING.
I'd rather be home, with distance and ocean and petrol prices creating an inescapable boundary than here, in Dumbfuckistan Central, surrounded by spoiled idiots who can get away with assuming they are the totality of the world with no personal consequence.
I don't know if I caught Corona from one of them of from my wife's scrubs while doing the laundry.
What I do know is that every ignorant cunt who compares it to the flu has never had both.
I'd rather do three contiguous bouts of influenza followed by a bout of norovirus than have another round of "Wuhan Flu".
It was the most awful 1.5 weeks of health I've ever had and I could still breathe on my own. The dogs were happy that I napped with them so much, but needing a morning liedown and afternoon nap after 12+hrs of sleep and 3-8 cups of coffee IS NOT RIGHT.
I feel so bad for dry-heaving when I got the respiratory panel swabs done. I'm glad I put my head back in the corner of the passenger seat and the door so I couldn't get away from the swab. Made it a bit easier for her.
I knew what I was getting into, coming here. More or less. I didn't count on a repeat of the black flu but here we are.
Shit happens, and we have to continue.
At least the apocalypse nightmares are cooler than reality.
~Peri
