Yesterday’s kitchen victory: killing that damn fruit fly.

More anxiety dreams about disease. I don’t feel like I’m too stressed overall, but at the very least my dreams are blowing off some steam.

Tonight’s kitchen victory: gougères with pancetta and sage.

I keep thinking about Ursula K. Le Guin’s Always Coming Home as our modern economic system staggers.

The dude seems to be fully recovered, by the way.

Took an hour-and-a-half walk yesterday past the quarantine/recovery structures they’re building on the soccer fields, and an hour walk today past the kids’ next-year schools.

Look, I know we’re in the middle of a shitty self-inflicted apocalypse, but it was a minor revelation today when I realized how many fewer airplanes were flying over our house.

Just got the grocery delivery, and apparently we’re hoarding unsalted butter. Note this for when you find our obese corpses after the apocalypse.

The dude seems to be doing fine, so far.

The dude has tested negative for influenza.

Dropped a few things off at Mom’s place, and went for a walk with her around the neighborhood.

Helped the dude find the correct font and formatting to modify an old-school-style D&D character sheet.

The family is watching the Seattle Symphony performing Mahler’s First Symphony.

I don’t say this very often, but thank God it’s Friday. It’s been a hell of a week.

“So home and late at my chamber, setting some papers in order; the plague growing very raging, and my apprehensions of it great.”