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Jun. 23rd, 2020 09:51 amBPL Civil War project is done, but I found another one: transcribing prisoner lists from Dachau and Mauthausen concentration camps. Not any more pleasant to dwell on, but equally necessary. At least the Nazis kept mostly legible records. Some of them are even typed.
If I didn't have feline company, I'd have been miserable weeks ago. Since I live alone, I don't have anyone else to add to a bubble. Except the cats, and it's too humid to snuggle (even though they do hang around in the same room with me, which is nice). I am DONE with this whole situation, but only in private. I still do all the appropriate public health things when I go out. Except when I go out for the sole purpose of taking out the trash.
The bookstore is opening on Thursday, so they say. I'll stand in line for that, although probably not actually on Thursday. And maybe not if it's 90 and dead calm and humid over the weekend. Yesterday was lovely because there was a breeze.
I got my new driver's license yesterday, so there's one thing I don't have to think about for the next five years. Still can't decide if I want to do the Real ID dance when I can, or whether I'll just use my passport because I have one.
OK, I admit it, I'm mad about not being able to do any of the usual things about my birthday. I don't WANNA be happy staying home and making myself a hot fudge sundae; I want my swan boat ride and expensive dinner out somewhere and I don't wanna wait until next year. 45 is a half-milestone and I can't even half-celebrate it. First world problem, of course, but I want to be allowed to think it's a problem.
If I didn't have feline company, I'd have been miserable weeks ago. Since I live alone, I don't have anyone else to add to a bubble. Except the cats, and it's too humid to snuggle (even though they do hang around in the same room with me, which is nice). I am DONE with this whole situation, but only in private. I still do all the appropriate public health things when I go out. Except when I go out for the sole purpose of taking out the trash.
The bookstore is opening on Thursday, so they say. I'll stand in line for that, although probably not actually on Thursday. And maybe not if it's 90 and dead calm and humid over the weekend. Yesterday was lovely because there was a breeze.
I got my new driver's license yesterday, so there's one thing I don't have to think about for the next five years. Still can't decide if I want to do the Real ID dance when I can, or whether I'll just use my passport because I have one.
OK, I admit it, I'm mad about not being able to do any of the usual things about my birthday. I don't WANNA be happy staying home and making myself a hot fudge sundae; I want my swan boat ride and expensive dinner out somewhere and I don't wanna wait until next year. 45 is a half-milestone and I can't even half-celebrate it. First world problem, of course, but I want to be allowed to think it's a problem.
