Getting Home

Sunday, 4/30 - We arrived at LA, and had to find out where our gate was. We only had about 1/2 hr to get there. Turned out it was down this big hallway, turn right, down the escalator to a smaller hallway, take the elevator up to another small hallway, then through a doorway to a small room that had 2 gates in it. I nearly missed it because I saw 'Gate 41B' before I noticed 'Gate 41A'. We needed 41A. We sat down in the cramped quarters to wait, and I got my sweater out of the carry-on suitcase and put it in my carry-on bag. In case the next plane was also cold. The boarding ramp to the plane was extra long and convoluted, but eventually, we got to the plane. We didn't get to sit together here, either. I shoved my cpap and bag under the seat in front of me, buckled my seat belt, and tried to get some sleep. This was another 5-hr trip, to Orlando. Shortly after take-off, the staff came around with cookies and drinks. Since I hadn't had any breakfast, I made the most of it. I think I managed to doze some of the time. Shortly before landing, staff came around again to offer coffee or water. I should have taken the water; my sinuses felt completely parched, but I passed.

We claimed our baggage and went to find our shuttle for our parking lot. It took some doing, but we finally connected with it. The shuttle driver was not the most pleasant person in the world. Our car had been sitting in the hot sun for over a week, and the remote clicker wouldn't work; we had to open all the doors with the key. Then as we drove home, we kept hearing the locking mechanisms going off and on. John finally got it to stop by hitting the 'lock' button on his door handle. Our first place for stopping to eat was super busy, so we went to our 2nd choice and got something to take home with us. Watched an hour of tv while we ate and went to bed about 9 pm.

PS. Monday, 5/1 - we discovered we had both come home with covid.

Back to the Old Grind

 Well, I'm back to not having enough time in the day to get things done, so I must be well on my way to recovery.

Back when I was sick with covid, I didn't care what or how much wasn't getting done. With both of us sick, no one was up to doing any cooking, and we pretty much survived on bananas and soda pop for 2-3 days. We slept when we wanted to, which was a lot. Took tylenol when we had a fever and tried to drink lots of water. Which is what you're supposed to do when you have a cold. But of course, this wasn't a cold, even though it felt like a nasty cold. If we hadn't been retired, we wouldn't have been allowed to go to work.

So, for the first time since I was a child, I allowed myself to be sick. Can't get my blogs posted? Okay, the world won't end. Can't work on getting books ready to be re-published? Well, with your brain fog, you'd probably make more mistakes than you'd fix, so just set it aside until you feel better.

As soon as Hubby started to feel better, he decided it was time to clean house. And I don't mean just run the vacuum and call it done. After 2 days of sorting and cleaning, we had 7 or 8 sacks of stuff to donate, including 5 pairs of jeans I'd forgotten about and which were now too big for me. Of course, we couldn't donate until we were out of quarantine, but it felt good to get them packaged up and ready to go.

About mid-way through quarantine, I started spending an hour in the evening—which is usually when I write—working on the first of those books I was updating. It was slow going, but I got a little faster with each evening that I worked on it. I dreamed of finishing it up last night, but... I hit a problem when I was inserting bookmarks to produce a Table of Contents. So I set it aside and went to bed, intending to tackle that problem today.

Now, here it is, half-way through the afternoon, and I haven't tackled that problem yet. Too many other things intruded in my day, needing my attention. Little things, big things, some things I haven't looked at in 3 weeks, so they've started howling pretty loudly to get my attention.

Time to get back to work.