When I last wrote I was suffering through a major tech issue with my computer that has since resolved just as mysteriously as it started. I am grateful and trying not to question it too much.
I am almost done with Christmas shopping. I’ve got one teacher gift left to purchase, and possibly two kid gifts. Other than that, it’s just fretting about shipping times and fighting with wrapping paper for the next nine days. That part I don’t mind so much.
I got the new Zelda game, Echoes of Wisdom, on my birthday. I have been very slowly working my way through it. I am very proud of the fact that–so far–I have figured everything out myself and have not turned to the Internet for answers to seemingly unbeatable bosses or particularly flummoxing dungeon puzzles. I am not good at Zelda games. My sister and brother are both very good at Zelda games, but I always gave up around the fourth dungeon or so. I am determined to beat this one myself, even if it takes me months to figure these things out.
My oldest kid was diagnosed with an infected finger and cellulitis last week, so I spent a large chunk of last Tuesday evening at my local dystopian Walgreens. Standing in line there for an hour and overhearing all the interactions and gazing at the dirty, empty shelves made me feel like I was watching the United States crumble right before my eyes. One pharmacy customer ran out of the store screaming “Fuck this country!!!!” destroying displays on the way out. A pharmacy tech used the same word in frustration even after the pharmacist asked him not to.
Anyway, my kid is on day 6 of antibiotics and it’s already hard to tell which finger was the infected one, and I am very grateful. But now I’m all in my head about those alternate universes in which we don’t have access to antibiotics and that Casey is burying her oldest child after spending three days at his bedside while he grew desperately, fatally ill and my prayers for healing went unanswered.
This is why I don’t sleep well at night.
But I went to the grocery store today to do the grocery shopping and I purchased so much cheese that the cashier commented on the extreme amount of cheese in my cart. This is even more notable because I’m pretty sure the cashiers at this store undergo extensive sensitivity training to prevent them from commenting on the food that people are buying. It is, perhaps, my proudest grocery store moment.