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February 8, 2022: Scraping the Bottom of the Bucket

I think this phrase means no inner reserves to draw upon. If so, this is apt in my particular situation. Lately, in the evenings I’ve been really tired. I have been sleeping soundly for about four hours, then wake and can’t get back to sleep. This could have something to do with my feelings of malaise. It’s also been a very long winter with no respite.

Lois, who cleans and categorizes books at the Meeting House on Tuesdays mentioned that she’s going to Hawaii next Tuesday. I envy her that, but of course I wonder if given the opportunity, if I’d do the same. It seems to me that most have decided to either take their chances with Covid

(and hopefully just get mildly ill) or to ignore it. I haven’t gotten it, and am going to continue to be careful. This means keeping my distance from people and wearing my mask when out in public.

Mandates – people are protesting them, worldwide. I have been wondering why it got to the point where mandates were needed. Couldn’t individuals of their own volition, just wear masks? Why do government entities have to mandate this? The answer is that most people are really stupid and extremely selfish. Covid, it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

Today, snow squalls. I didn’t hesitate to drive DGNPNY into town. I don’t have a problem with road conditions. I have a problem with visibility. I just can’t be driving at night. I drove really slow and remained attentive to where other drivers were in relation to me. Others must have been doing the same because I didn’t see any other vehicles by the side of the road.

It was pretty much the same old same old today. I moved books out of the U-Haul storage locker and took them to the Meeting House. There was plenty of room there for them. I also dropped off books at various distribution sites. All the while it felt like I was driving in pie dough.

I met up with the three volunteers at the Meeting House. They cleaned young adult books and I sorted and categorized Saturday’s motherlode. I also cut up innumerable boxes and packed up the nativity scene. I decided that it was time, February.

All the while I did all this, it seemed to me that I was dealing with the inertia of my spirit. Every task just seemed to take considerable effort. Now I am, of course, wondering if I am burnt out on dealing with books or if this is really just a case of winter malaise. I am going to assume that it’s the latter.

And tomorrow? More distribution to various and sundry places if weather permits. Nan and I are going to attend the Palmer Museum annual meeting – now, this isn’t something that I am looking forward to doing, but I’ll do it.

I can’t seem to sleep in. I’d go to bed early, but Pete gets home late. I keep telling myself that, yes, spring is just around the corner.

Next: 40. 2/9/22: Thinking Outside the Box

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