the difference, I 

explain, patiently, again

is the tone of voice

It's barely 6:30 a.m.  A Monday morning.  Before covid, I'd be on the highway, headed into work - showered, dressed, fed, prepared.  Four weeks into covid I'm in my office at home, pajamas, first coffee, slightly dirty glasses, and wondering when the world will return to something I know.

Four weeks ago, I would put Bob in his shower chair and leave for work.  His PSW would get him up and ready and prepared for his day.  Bob woud go to the gym or out with friends.  Now everything is closed.  Bob's outings during the week are for volunteering at a soup kitchen during covid.  I tried to talk to him about how concerned I am about the risk for us - but he was unmoved and refused to listen.  I gave up trying.  In the end, I'd do the same thing he is so it seemed hypocritical to pursue it.

In the last four weeks, I've assisted with Bob's lifts in the shower.  In the last few days, this has increased to helping with his pants.  Today, he was tired of being fussed over and told his PSW that he could stay with his pants down and "Chris would just do it later".  We'll have to talk, also later, about how the whole point of having a PSW was to decrease my workload and exhaustion.  I'm not here to save them work.  But he's too nice and I'm probably too patient with this stuff.  Instead of asking, "wtf are you talking about?" I smile, pour a coffee, and come in here to blog.

Cowardly, perhaps, or patient, thoughtful?  I can never tell.

Yesterday was good.  I had a pleasant, lazy morning, followed by errands.  I came home, did yard work, and burned the leaves.  It felt normal, almost - the sun on my face, wind in my hair, burned leaves in my nostrils. The dogs were playing and sleeping in the sun - and for a moment I forgot how utterly changed the world is in four weeks.

I keep oscillating between "this isn't so bad" and "holy crap".  Tme will tell, I suppose.