I wear a mask, sometimes two, and then a plastic face shield. There's a great assortment at the hardware store, and believe it or not, some are fashionable. I'm double-vaxxed, and yesterday my doc said I cant get the booster until November.
Weirdly enough, I haven't even had the sniffles, let alone bronchitis, which usually afflicts me every few months. I enjoy being alone, and most people bore me with trivial conversations. I don't miss touching and hugging, though I love it. Saw my son and his trans partner yeasterday. S/he works behind the counter, serving coffee, and he was on a break, covered in dirt from digging new sewer lines at the college (not his duty, but no one else showed up). It felt so foreign to hug him. I realized how long it had been since I'd had physical contact.
I've been daydreaming about the long-ago past, being a young mom, shopping with an old group of hippies who'd formed a food co-op, playing with my cat, marching for equal rights and against nuclear power. I miss those days more than the recent past, going back to how much less horrid Nixon was than Trump...
Life changes so, and if you cant change with it, embrace the ones you love, take action when you can, protect your rights when you are beaten for protecting others.
I think I wandered off topic. Okay, stand up in the public square for the benefits of vaccinations, even though we don't know what's in them, because we've seen the ghastly results. Most people are somewhat familiar with religions that describe the end of the world. Fuck religion but don't let them blind you to the fact that it's happening.
I have 15 or 20 more years to live, but I see my death as an occasion. I wear a medicalert bracelet with two messages: NO BLIND NG, which is my warning about having RYGB, and CADAVER DONOR, so they'll get my body to the UW for medical students to learn from. After a year of studying every square inch, its cremated and given to my son. His instructions are to cast my ashes to the four winds, from Desolation Peak, the mountain I've hiked so much, to repay the bear and deer who scared the shit out of me when they visited me in my sleeping bag.
Death is the other side of the coin we call life. I hope nothing for what is there, except that my consciousness will live, aware, in the body of another. If not, that's okay with me.