|Nurse. . . Oh Nurse|
It was 66 degrees at 5:45. That's when I got up. This is the first night in the 60s here since I don't know when. It is the first day of autumn, too, the equinox, a day of equal daylight and darkness. You know that, though. I don't know why I remind you. Everyone knows weather and heavens now. It isn't anything mystical. It is The Weather Channel.
Me? I'm hoping for a fresh new start. My own home state, however, now leads the country in Covid cases racking up 12% of the nation's total. I will get the vaccine soon, but there are no guarantees. My conservative friends will not get the vaccine nor the Covid. That is just how it works. I am sure it is genetic. A new study has found that Covid rates among CNN/MSNBC viewers is an incredible 2,000% higher than those among Fox viewers.
It's just science.
It is difficult to divide the populace into liberal/conservative categories anymore, though. I'll probably explain that more thoroughly in a moment.
As reported, I felt like hell yesterday morning after a horrific night before. After writing, I decided to go to the gym. I'd do a medium workout and not stress myself. I got home in time to shower and head off for my beauty appointment. I hadn't been hungry, but I forced myself to eat a yogurt. I should have had some water, too, but I am pretty hydrophobic, to wit: I was feeling tired, weak, and dehydrated when I arrived.
My pretty little Jewish Russian beautician had put on a lot of weight. I am never sure how she will look as she is in prep half the time for some fitness competition. When that is over, though, she puts on some pounds. I had never seen her this heavy before though. Well. . . she is getting older, you know. She is 45 now. Ho!
We chatted about the usual things, my lack of a love life, her relationship with the Dominican cop she and her son live with. He's a macho guy, and she likes that. He is always busy, never stops working. She is much the same. Coming from Russia at a time when Jews were discriminated against, her family was poor and struggled. And like many immigrants who come to America, they saw opportunity. All they had to do was work hard and they would make money. She's a hustler. So, she says, her "man" and her are well suited. Work, work, work. He is building houses on his property that he rents out. Lately, he has had to hire some workers. She tells the same story as Tennessee. Immigrants work. White Boy Roy takes cigarette and phone breaks and does about half the work of the Mexicans, and he complains about that.
Now here's the thing. You would think she is a "liberal, but her politics are not. All her immigrant friends are conservative. They work hard and they hustle and they believe in Freedom and The American Dream. They will vote for Trump. When Biden walks with the striking UAW workers this weekend, he is living under the false idea that they, the union workers, will vote for him. I am certain he is wrong. I am convinced that he will be marching with Trump supporters by and large.
I may be wrong, but I am sure I am right about my beautician.
When we finished and I was settling up, she gave me the news--she is pregnant.
Holy smokes! What? I was stunned.
"Are you going to get a ring?"
"That's not up to me," she said.
Oh, buddy. . . why? Why oh why? I kept wondering. She has a ten year old son. The father has been a scumbag and a lot of trouble. Now? I was doing internal calisthenics when I said, "Well, congratulations, old mom."
"Oh, don't you worry. . . I'll get back into shape after the baby, just like last time. I will do one final competition."
"No you won't. You are going to get addicted to potatoes and butter. Wait. . . what about my hair?!?"
"Don't worry. . . it will be like last time."
Of course. . . it is all about me.
She's been doing my hair a long time now, long before she had her son. Wow, I thought. I never quit anybody or anything, but she is now my longest sustained relationship.
I stopped by my mother's on the way home. By now, though, I was very fatigued and famished.
"You look tired," my mother said when I was leaving.
"And here I thought I looked good."
Home, I stumbled into the kitchen and ate two pieces of leftover frozen pizza from the night before. And then I fell into bed.
When I woke up, I didn't, really. It was five o'clock, and I was feeling like shit. I didn't want to cook, so I made a drive to get takeout Greek salad and roasted chicken. All I wanted to do was sit before the tv and eat. I was beginning to ache all over. My skin didn't like the feel of my shirt against it. I had no fever, though. Maybe it was just fatigue. And dehydration. A quart of coconut water sat on the counter. I drank it with my dinner. It was good. Did I feel better? Maybe.
It was six. I turned on the news. Then the tv went blank in the middle of the first story about that dirty fucker Clarence Thomas. WTF? The cable had gone out. Terrific. The night I needed t.v. most.
I decided at bedtime that I would not take a sleep aid once again. I was tired. I was sure I would sleep.
I was wrong. I slept fitfully all night long, or so I thought. When I looked at the clock, it was midnight. Holy shit! It went on like this. At least, I thought, I am not having those despairing thoughts and nightmares. I'm just tossing and turning.
Hence, I got up long before sunrise.
I don't know. Maybe I should get a dog.
Today will be gorgeous, and I will take a long limp. I will buy more coconut water. I'm a mess, though. I need some care.
I think I need a nurse.