The neighbors have a new puppy. I can hear it squeaking at their back door. The windows are open, a hot night for October in California.
My stitched-up leg is on the foot stool. The pain has lessened. After all, it is day 5. Only 9 more to go before the stitches come out.
The two signs stolen from my front yard have been replaced by kind strangers on nextdoor.com. I had posted the theft and found out many others have had theirs stolen, too.
It wasn’t the usual Monday. No Zoom Zumba (since I am not allowed to do cardio for fear of stitches breaking, said the doctor).
Instead I ran errands to one doctor’s office, one post office, one drugstore, two neighbors for free signs, my sister’s care home, and Office Depot. By the time I did all of that, my leg was yelling at me. I sat down to read the paper and to eat my lunch.
The dogs kept waiting for me to walk them, but again, the doctor said no. Friends and family have helped out the last three days, but no one offered today.
My Girl Friday comes tomorrow. She can walk them.
Without dog walking and Zumba Zooming, the day goes on too long. The pandemic, the stitches, the finished library book and the three other ones that aren’t grabbing me, left me today with time to kill.
I picked up one of the books about rock and roll and read it until I got sleepy. Then the phone rang, and it was the dermatology office calling to see how I was doing, mentioning that they would send a report to the primary care doctor.
Primary care doctor? Don’t I have a physical with her today at 3:00?
It was 2:45.
I flew out the door and made it in time. I dashed around an older couple heading the same way and hurried up the stairs, skipping the elevator.
Oops! Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I checked in, and here came the older couple through the door.
The nurse weighed me on the scale. I have gained the Covid 19.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Everyone has.”
The physical over, and I was back home to two confused dogs, a boring library book, and news of Trump attacking Fauci and other idiots.
Dr. Fauci now has to employ bodyguards since his life has been threatened for telling the truth about the pandemic.
Half of America doesn’t believe in science. It’s a scary world and will be until the election results are tallied. Hopefully enough of us will suffer through the voting to get a change in administration.
So that we can sleep at night.
So that we can have hope for our children’s America.
For our daughters. For our friends of color. I have some. Do you?
That’s why I have signs in my yard again. I wonder how long this pair will last.