Writing always feels like I 100% shoot my load on the title, and then get too anxious to write the rest, so I really phone it in. So I'd rather just use dates. It's not like time fucking matters right now. I don't really know what matters right now, other than getting through it..
I spent today in various pajamas. I slept in one set; I changed into another when I woke up, and eventually into yet another (so that I could wash the ones I had on). Took a shower, and put on another pair. I guess that is the only way to do a costume change in 2020. Onesies aren't for all day wear, at least not for me. I can't sleep in a onesie. It's all very complicated, fashion.
Got a lot done around the house. I'm here constantly, so I'm putting more effort into keeping it clean and colorful and home.I put on headphones, and listened to music all day, while I ran laundry up and down the stairs, doing laundry, setting timers for myself so that I didn't forget that I had laundry downstairs.
I feel very detached from everyone right now. It's uncomfortable. But I think that's just how it is for all of us now. Well, all of us with any sort of awareness of how gross other people are. And after spending too many holidays in the ICU with my mother, I'd love to not have to do that again anytime soon. I'll stay home. It's fine.