Week 6

Well, this is pretty fucked up. 

When I was a kid, I caught chickenpox. While I wasn't allowed to go to school, several parents brought their kids over to play with me, I guess the other parents wanted to "get it done and over with". Seems like a bad idea to me, but I'm a germaphobe. Although my hazy memory tells me that my doctor wasn't exactly pleased when mom mentioned it. 

The same thing is happening now, but in reverse. A good portion of those infected are going out of their way to infect others. Sometimes, violently so. Hospitals across the country are reporting patients just getting up and leaving. Not that the hospital can really do anything about it. Patients refuse treatment all the time. But not in droves, typically. And they are being hyper aggressive. We're talking literally biting and clawing at innocent bystanders. 

More cities are attempting total blockades. And failing miserably. Major metro areas are almost turning into war zones. There just isn't enough personnel to maintain it. Our governor has advised us to "shelter in place". That I can manage. At least for now.

Time to beef up the security around my property. It is already impossible to set foot in my yard without being seen on at least one camera. And the system is configured to alert me if anything roughly human sized comes on the property. You don't even want to know how long it took me to get it set up without my phone blowing up from false positives. 

I did foray outside for a bit today. I wandered over to see my neighbor Doug. He and his wife have lived in their house since I moved here. Doug is tough as fucking nails. Even at his advanced age. I know he was a Marine and served in 'Nam. That's all I know about his time in the service. Having veterans in my own family, I know there are some questions a person shouldn't ask a vet. His wife, Betty, is the quintessential "kind little old lady". They know I don't have family in the area so they invite me over for dinner every few weeks. And on the occasions I'm too overwhelmed to go, Betty leaves a plate on my porch. 

I'm relieved to report they are hunkered down and prepared to weather the storm. Not that I had any doubts. But checking on each other is what neighbors do, right? Doug did give me some easy to implement ideas to fortify my position (his words, not mine). I'm going to, again on his advise, wait until dark to work on it though. And his reasoning is sound: Fewer people can see what I'm doing. I'm not going to argue strategy with a devil dog. 

I should get some sleep. It is going to be a long night.