During the pandemic, my cats have basically been my support. Since I'm immunocompromised and can't really return to normal the way most people seem to be doing now in the wake of Omicron, and since I've spent most of my life since early March 2020 isolating, they've provided me with many and comfort. They've given me something to do each day, to take care of and be responsible for, kept me on track and going even when all I wanted to do for depressing, lonely week after week, month after month, is lay on the couch and be as invisible as I've felt through the pandemic. They make me smile, they bring me joy, they're always there. In a time of upheaval and disruption in my personal, professional, and social life, as the world becomes more inaccessible and farther away, as the people I care for drop out of my life, I've been able to count on them each and every day. Now, my oldest girl is slowly slipping away. She's been with me for the past 20 years (almost 21 now) and has seen me through so much of my life, both good and bad, happy and sad, and everything in between. I don't know how to live without her. I've lost family and friends to COVID, I've seen some end up disabled long-term in the wake of the damage it does to their bodies. And she's been there, every time. I've moved to four different countries, been married and divorced and remarried and divorced, through horrible, broken relationships and finally to one of mutual respect and care. I've seen my friends' kids born and grow up, go off to college, get jobs, become parents themselves. I lost all of my grandparents after her arrival. She was there when their home was sold before they moved into retirement housing and I lost access to the place in the world that brought me the most comfort. But she was still there, curled on my lap or on her favorite green cushion that I always have on a chair in the window so she can catch the warm rays of sunshine whether it's the dead of winter or the height of summer. I've lost a great deal over my life, especially during these COVID years. But I've had her. My best friend. Not for much longer, though, and I am devastated. Lost. I hold her increasingly fragile body, watch her slowly and gingerly drink a tiny sip of water, slowly curl back up in my lap and I wonder how many more times I'll get to experience that. She goes to the vets on Monday. I don't know how to cope.
February 22, 2022
This week I had an email disagreement with my boss over the safety issues involved in reopening my work-place to the publc. Because he (my boss) is an administrator and not working on-the-ground with patrons and I am, I thought it was important to express my concerns about things in the past (when we were open during our county's red tier) that made me afraid of being in the building: non-complaince of mask-wearing by patrons and employees, and eating/food (since folks have to take off their masks to eat and aerosol seems to be the main form of covid transmission). These are things I see, and my immediate coworkers, but that my boss does not see because he is not part of the daily working of the library. Honestly, my email was kind of blunt because I can't believe I am having to make these points now that we are almost a year into the pandemic. My boss was ticked off in his response - he told me all protocols would be followed just as they had been (which of course, they weren't) and that because I am not a frontline employee, I can just stay home and come in after hours for work needs, AND, that because I have been vaccinated I shouldn't be worrying so much. I like my boss but every now and then, when I bring something like this to his attention, he gets kind of angry at me. Makes me feel like an unneeded part of the organization. I know we will get through this latest disagreement but I think that the way it will dissipate is by me not bringing it up again, or pressing my point.
February 28, 2021