Life under the Lintel: Mad, mad world

I noticed a bit of a lag time between when the world fell and when I started dreaming in quarantine. For the first couple weeks, I was surprised that the world in my dreams still featured normal human contact. But my sleeping brain has caught up to the times now. A couple nights ago I had a nightmare that I had a job as a waitress in a very busy and packed breakfast restaurant--which I did once, in real life--and I was terrible at it--as I was, in real life. I was overwhelmed with tables and orders and couldn't remember anything beyond bringing the patrons water. And staff was rushing about, and there was hardly any room between full tables, and there was also a crowded gift shop...and it was half a nightmare because I was reliving my unhappy incompetent waitress days, and half a nightmare because I wanted to talk to the boss about the unsafe working conditions in a pandemic situation, but I was afraid of losing my job.

Ugh.

I asked the question a month ago, kind of in jest, whether I ought to be concerned when I pass someone on the running path in the park. And now, when I run in the park, I think grimly of how little time it took for that to go from a ridiculous question because obviously no! to a ridiculous question because obviously yes! Now when I pass someone going the other way, it turns into a game of chicken: who will veer 20 feet off the path first? How far away do I need to leave the pavement and start running on the turf that will twist my ankle one of these days to politely give my neighbor free use of the path? What if I wait too long to veer, and the other party takes the opposite side to the fence, and doesn't veer far enough for my comfort, but I'm stuck by the fence?

All the rules of civility have changed. If a father is pitching to his son, and the son knocks it out of the fence near my feet, must I still throw it back to them? Could I find a leaf to wrap it in before I pick it up? Once I saw a young man climbing a barbed-wire fence to retrieve a lost ball, and for a minute I thought he was stuck on it, and I thought do I give this neighbor a hand?? At least the battered Jew or the Samaritan didn't have Covid!

Now it's polite not to shake hands, nor even get close to someone. Now it's kindness to treat everyone as if they're spreading the dirty plague.

It's a mad world we're living in.

Palm Sunday, worshipping along with the virtual service, waving branches from our yard

Jeddy reading Oedipus the King in between shots

I've actually, finally, had second thoughts about my deserted island fantasy, which I mentioned in my terribly ironic What's-Saving-My-Life post a mere two months ago, in which I wondered why Robinson Crusoe was so antsy to get off his island of solitude.

I think I'm starting to understand.

I'm guessing he was mostly concerned about the lack of grocery stores supplies.

Grandma and Grandpa dropping off Jason's birthday dinner; heartbroken grandchildren inside

Social distancing birthday party

I concede that the stress of staying alive with no resources but what I personally scratch from the ground might surpass the stress of staying alive with a few empty store shelves.