Sunday, August 2, 2020

I've been swimming at the Benicia pool. It gets me up and out. For 45 minutes, I kick hard and try not to think of all that's going on in the world at the moment. It is hard for me to get up and go, but i do, and wanting to quit for the first 16 laps. 

Today, Chris was swimming 3 lanes down from me. It's a really quick session. Normally, at the gym, I swim for 45 minutes, no problem. Here, I get anxious about cramming it all in to 45 minutes. It's really rigid. In the pool at 10:00, out by 10:45, back in my car by 11. At the end, the life guard whistles and everyone gets out at the same time and dresses in unison. It looks like a 1930s synchronized swimming movie. 

Afterwards, I went to my spot behind the laundromat, where it's shady and smells like dryer sheets. Now I am home. This is my least favorite time of day. It's when I feel especially aimless. Maybe writing can be like swimming, where I only hate the first 15 minutes of sitting down. 

We are at 150,000 dead and the number is going up every day. The president keeps saying everything is ok and that the public schools should open for face-to-face school. There's so much going on in the news that it's a whirl keeping up with it all. 

The GDP is the lowest it has ever been. Unemployment supplemental benefits ran out at midnight on Friday. I'll still get 200.00 for a few more weeks, but then everything ends. 

The protests for BLM are still going on all around the company. The news media rarely covers them, unless there is violence. Trump tried to shove his goons down the throats of the mayor and governor of Portland, but had to withdraw them all in the end. No goons. no violence.

I'm still spending too much time on Twitter and it gets exhausting. But i have this irrational fear that something big will happen, and I won't know about it. It's as though my hypervigilance is the only thing keeping everything from flying off an axis and into the universe. 

I spend a lot of time by myself. I fear I am losing my social skills, along with my edit function. I don't want to be an old person who prattles on to the grocery store cashier. But I am starved for regular conversation. I see friends maybe three times a week, but it's always the same ones. I am nervous because Gregory and Richard's brother was here, and they went to Black Bear Diner, and into SF. They don't seem worried, so I'll act as if I am not worried. 

My place is a mess. There's no urgency to clean. I haven't gone grocery shopping since I went to Trader Joe's and Larry's farm stand over a week ago. I'm down to one baking potato and not much else. I guess that will be tomorrow's project, since I am taking a day off from swimming. 

Tonight, I am going to the Whitfields for dinner and a movie.