March 19, 2020

I have behaved since this began as though I were certainly a carrier, avoiding contact, going out only when I needed to or when I would likely meet nobody. I don’t know my Covid status. I have no symptoms, and so cannot be tested, as things stand now. It wasn’t rife in Dublin, so the place I might have picked it up was the airports, especially the swarming Petri dish of US Customs. Eight days remain before the accepted incubation period elapses, when I can be more sure. Would I survive the disease? I am elderly (as these things are counted). Do I have other problems which would exacerbate the effects of the disease? I’m not sure. I do know that for the last couple of days in Ireland and to this moment I have felt better and stronger than I have in months. I’ve almost given up trying to figure out how these things work. I do sleep like a baby after exercise, but I do accomplish the exercise–which is now mostly digging.

Thought I would get more writing done. I’ve been rather dazed by the extent of idle days before me, when epics might be accomplished. I remember this feeling from Exeter, where I was stymied by the abundance of opportunity.

Cannot look at my stock investments. Yet I remember that, months ago, 4/5 of my investments went into savings accounts, by God’s grace. All that is safe.

The cleaning lady insisted on coming today. I bet she needs the income. I’ll be in the study or out in the garden so we don’t infect each other. Bought a salad I didn’t want from 828 Pizza, just so they would make a sale.