June 8th, 2020

Don't Tell Me What To Do

Twitter and instagram sometimes LJ is full of 'read this' or 'you must read this' or 'watch to the end' - and it drives me nuts. Unless I ask, do not tell me what to do ever! I love suggestions 'you might enjoy this'. I love information 'read about how xxx' but straight out telling me what to do gets a fast unfollow. The past couple of weeks have been full of people I do not know telling me what to think and what to read and what to watch. So my feeds have been trimmed down a great deal. Just now, my Twitter feed got a very close trim.

Our police department is in deep shit. They are unable to control those who need control. Protests turn into battles night after night. The mayor and the police chief say the right things but nothing changes on the street. It's not pretty. I'm very grateful that it's also not here in this neighborhood.

I do not believe there will be any baseball this year. I think the owners and the players are going to play chicken with the plans right up until there is no time left to play no matter what restrictions are used.

I doubt I will live long enough to get a good perspective but I'd be really interested in what the history books say about 2020.

I'm venturing out today. To Costco. Senior hour. Drugs. But, if the crowd is thin, I might get crazy and go down to the freezer section for ice cream.

Then home to my crochet. I can feel my dedication to that fucking treadmill slipping away. I need to figure out how to get it back. 15 minutes. A half mile, I seem to be able to do. The other half mile, not so much. I will at least get my Costco walk in today. That parking lot is gynormous and I park at the very far end.

Just now I need to shower. I cannot do my first outing dirty!

Old People Hour FOREVER!!

For several reasons, my last trip to Costco was horrible.

Today was a whole new world.

I got there and waited in an orderly queue with a total of 11 other people. In the shade with a breeze. They opened 5 minutes early. No one was in a rush. The greeter said she love my mask (Mariners mask), I put my brave on and headed for the ice cream. I shared an aisle one time, the rest of the time, the store was mine.

I got ice cream and egg cookies and eye vitamins and drugs. I checked myself out. A nice lady taped my receipt to the front of my cart for the door checker and I was done. 1200 steps.

I'd be fine if they made old people hour a permanent thing.