More of that pandemic life

I started working from home on March 18. It’s April 23 as I write this, so 37 days later. It feels like a hundred years.

A few things have changed. There is now talk of easing some restrictions. The Saskatchewan government has announced its plans for Phase 1 and 2 (of 5) as follows (quoting from the CBC News story linked above):

Beginning May 4, restrictions on certain medical practices in Saskatchewan, such as dentistry, optometry and chiropractic therapy, will be lifted along with restrictions on fishing and boating. Golf courses will open mid-May and campgrounds on June 1.

The second phase of the province’s plan is to begin May 19, when some retail businesses, such as bookstores, jewelry stores, sporting goods stores and electronics shops, will reopen.

(Note that golf courses never actually closed in B.C.)

B.C. is widely expected to announce its own plans to ease restrictions next week, and will probably follow similar measures to what Saskatchewan is doing.

I don’t see anything about re-opening schools, whether public or post-secondary and when I try to imagine how campuses could have students safely return, the lengths required to keep people apart seem almost impossible to overcome. One-way hallways? Classes with only half as many students (where would the other half be)? Staggering students at end of class so they leave one at a time? Have courses start and end at different times? Or on different days? I mean, all of these things are doable, but you’re constantly fighting against the inherent design of schools, which is to pack rooms full of people, sometimes hundreds of people.

That said, I would not be surprised if my work at home order is lifted before the end of May because I think the desire to re-open schools may collide with caution and caution may lose.

On the home front, the scarcity of the first few weeks when shopping has largely dried up, save for a few select items which are still hard to find. We’ve been able to get toilet paper (still a limit of one package per customer) each time we’ve gone shopping (separately now, never together), so we now have more than 64 rolls, more than we ever had in the pre-pandemic times. We’ve also finally managed to stock up on other paper products such as napkins and paper towels. Most of the usual food we buy has been in stock. The days of having to settle for chili-style baked beans are over. For now, anyway.

Two changes in New Westminster in respond to the virus:

The crosswalk light at the corner of Fader and Braid is normally pedestrian-activated. No more! It now changes automatically so you don’t have to press the filthy, virus-laden button (which I did when I went out today, because I pressed first, read after).

And the where East Columbia turns into North Road, right near were I turn in to the river trail to walk or run, they have closed off part of the lane adjacent to the sidewalk on the bridge to allow people to keep apart without getting run down by semis.

This is both nice to see and kind of bonkers that it’s needed. But kudos to the city for doing these things. I feel a smidgen safer about not keeping myself cooped up.

Thinking ahead, we already know a few things. All major outdoor events are already canceled:

  • Pride parade
  • Celebration of Light fireworks
  • PNE
  • Concerts and festivals (Folk Festival in July, etc.)

I suspect that community pools will stay shut for the summer. The one in Hume Park normally opens in late June and the idea of it opening in just over two months seems highly implausible. It will be weird to see it sit empty on hot summer days. But I could end up being wrong.

And that’s the thing. Governments want to be cautious–and this is good–but how long will they really keep some things locked down? I can easily see the pressure to open more things up as the weeks turn into months.

For myself, I just want to buy groceries without having to give a wide berth to every other shopper, because like schools, grocery stores were not designed to keep people apart, and the experience of shopping has become awful as a result (as has most other things that require being outside of the home).

Interesting times, as they say.

Dear Diary (no, just kidding)

I occasionally toy with the idea of starting a journal again. While this blog mostly serves that purpose, there are things that I don’t really want or need to discuss publicly (ie. here), but might be helpful to write down somewhere. It’s kind of like how I make shopping lists, but wouldn’t post them publicly because who cares about my shopping lists?

Shopping lists will suddenly become a thing now.

I have the Day One app and despite some quibbles with it, it functions fine as an actual journal, yet I’ve only written in it a few times. Maybe committing to it on a daily basis would help my overall writing, as well as my state of mind, especially in these nutty pandemic times.

For example, a few days ago I wrote on the board on the fridge: Do something positive or productive every day. I wrote this for myself and my partner, thinking it would help us find something good in every day, even if the overall day was a bit poo. These positive or productive things would be good for recording in a journal. Today’s entry would be something like: Um…I was kind of lazy today, actually. I offered advice. I helped my partner with a technical issue on the iPad. I put away the clean dishes and loaded the dishwasher with the dirty ones. Okay, I guess I wasn’t totally lazy. But I could look back on this in a journal and nod at how I always put the dishes away, because I’m highly organized or something.

Hmm. I will have to ponder this journal thing. It seems like a positive step, with no real downsides, so I don’t have a good reason to say no to it.

We shall see.

I summon the rain

Jeff hooked up the air conditioning today as it’s been weirdly (but nicely) warm the past few weeks or so.

It rained later in the morning.

So it’s still April.

The sun came out later and it got nice and warm again, so the weather didn’t completely mock us. And speaking of weather, I looked back at a post in February noting that it had rained 28 of 31 days in January. A little rain now does not seem so bad in comparison. (But only a little.)

Goodbye, Ellen

For many years I had the following quote by Ellen DeGeneres on my website in the top-right corner, to underscore the absurdity of writing (especially writing for publication):

You know, it’s hard work to write a book. I can’t tell you how many times I really get going on an idea, then my quill breaks. Or I spill ink all over my writing tunic.

I like absurd humor, so this quote resonated with me.

In recent years Ellen has come under fire for cozying up to George W. Bush, for treating guests and crew on her show poorly, and for generally seeming to be the opposite of the nice, wholesome image she presents.

So I’ve changed the quote. I still wanted something funny and my search will go on, but for now I’m going with this from Gene Fowler:

Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.

Not quite as absurd, and darker, but it will do for now.

Signs of the times, Pandemic edition (April 2020)

I went to London Drugs today, to get things both trivial (bubble bath) and not (toilet paper). It was my second time there since the pandemic forced us all into “physical distancing.”

Most of the Lougheed Town Centre mall is closed. The only ones open are London Drugs, Walmart, and a couple of banks. Oh, and Tim Hortons. The food court is nominally open, but only for takeout–the entire seating area is taped off. Most food outlets appeared to be closed.

I walked to the mall, taking my usual scenic router, with a brief detour to Burnaby Lake, to see hoe many cars were at the Avalon parking lot near the dam. There were a fair number, though somewhat surprisingly, not as many as when I was there last on March 21. There were new signs up regarding physical distancing, including this one:

Also handy if you need to determine if you are about to be attacked by a bald eagle.

The unfortunate thing here is that much of the trail around the lake (including the part right behind this sign) is pretty narrow, so you can’t even get 2 meters apart, even if you walk along the edges. I guess as long as you don’t sneeze into someone’s face…

I also found this on the path leading into Burnaby Lake:

This angers me, because it’s not just litter, it’s putting others at risk. A mask is by design going to be covered with the germs of the person wearing it. It should be disposed of responsibly, and carefully, not tossed on the ground. Imagine this scenario:

Asymptomatic person wears mask, then decides to discard it on the ground because they are thoughtless and dumb. Minutes later a family comes along with a young child. The child sees the mask and immediately picks it up to exam it, because it’s “neat.” The (hopefully) horrified parents tell the kid to drop it, but it’s too late–the kid is now carrying the virus. The family returns home, where they live with their grandparents. The kid eventually spreads the virus to everyone. One of the grandparents, already in less than good health, becomes very ill and ultimately dies.

All because someone was too lazy and irresponsible to dispose of their mask safely.

Unlikely? Maybe. Possible? Absolutely.

Passing through Hume Park, I noticed a new sign aimed at my least favorite people, dog owners:

PSAs featuring terrible puns are OK by me

I find the language interesting. “Please keep your pet leashed to help keep out parks and trails open.” At first glance, this doesn’t seem to be related to the pandemic, until you realize they would never close the park because off-leash dogs were running around, so it’s totally about the pandemic and fears associated with having pets running loose and, I guess, potentially spreading the virus? I’m not sure if that’s possible, but I like the city giving it to dog owners, anyway, because I had my fill of off-leash dogs way back. I’m also guessing the signs went up after complaints were raised, which would also be good.

On the way to the mall, I encountered a fair number of people (it was another unseasonably warm and sunny afternoon), but managed to keep my distance without difficulty and enjoyed just being out in the sunshine. It felt good and for moments at a time I could forget everything else.

Then I get to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over Stony Creek and see this:

This is impressive in its simplicity and clarity, yet also terrifying in how it doesn’t actually mention the pandemic, other than the covid19 in the URL at the bottom. It’s like, “This is your life now. STAY APART.”

I didn’t pass anyone on the bridge to find out how well others know right from left.

Once at the mall, I was greeted by several signs related to the pandemic (safety tips and a list of the few open stores) and a giant hand sanitizer dispenser, which gushed sanitizer into my awaiting hands.

London Drugs is now set up for physical distancing, which stickers on the floor showing you where to stand at the checkouts. The checkouts have Plexiglas barriers to protect the cashiers–it’s like they’re suddenly inside the salad bar. The Plexiglas is thick enough that talking to the cashier feels a bit like using the Cone of Silence from Get Smart.

They also had a giant stack of baskets at the front of the store that had a sign declaring them clean and ready to use. Buggies were similarly arranged:

Technically the arrow should be pointing to the right, unless there are buggies under the floor.

It’s a lot trickier to maintain distance inside a store, because stores are not really designed to keep people apart. While ducking through aisles and avoiding others, I observed a phenomenon I noticed again later today when I went grocery shopping at Save On Foods. While some people clearly try to avoid others and some make at least a marginal effort to do the same, a small set of people appear to be making little to no effort to avoid others and several of these people brushed by me multiple times. The one thing they all had in common?

They were all wearing masks.

It seems some people may be viewing masks as some magical shield that means you no longer have to worry about anything.

These people are dumb. And they make me nervous, and make shopping even more unpleasant now than it already is.

On the way out I went to use this sanitizer station in front of the taped-off playground–which looks like an abandoned crime scene–but the dispenser was empty so I made note to note touch anything for the next 30 minutes. Fortunately the mall has automatic doors at the entrance.

On the walk home, a guy on the sidewalk passed by carrying a take-out bag from White Spot. He was wearing a mask. If that isn’t a sign of the times, I don’t know what is. It also made me want a Legendary burger.

On North Road another guy passed by wearing a mask, as well as a bike helmet. He was not riding a bike, or even walking a bike. There was no bike. I have no idea what was going on there. I kept walking.

As I mentioned, more of the “I can do anything, I’m wearing a mask!” people were at Save On Foods, but I was buying a ton of stuff (to minimize trips) and used a buggy, which is a great way to keep people from getting too close. Also it was kind of fun to toodle around the store with it. The last time I used a buggy while grocery shopping was…probably never.

I try not to think too much about it, but every time I got to a store, I wonder how long it will be before we can shop normally again. A few more weeks? Months? Longer? I’m not sure I’d want someone to tell me the answer now, if they knew.

I also took a few pics of things not related to COVID-19 while I was out. These will be posted separately, so they don’t get infected by this post.

How to make me feel old (Lenovo edition)

I like my Thinkpad X1 Carbon. The finish has this weirdly soothing texture, the keyboard is like everything Apple would never do (a good thing) and it generally runs well.

I am always keeping my eye on laptops because I am in the market for a new one this year, so I am subscribed to Lenovo’s newsletter.

It is a total coincidence that I am writing about newsletters two days in a row, I assure you.

Today I get this:

Basically, Lenovo is telling me I am old. A senior.

Hmph.

Zinio: We don’t know how April Fools works

I get newsletters from Zinio, the online magazine store, offering savings and such on various, well, online magazines. It’s a decent service, though increasingly niche as the general web provides a less-curated overabundance of information on any topic out there.

Today is April 1st, aka April Fools Day. During a global pandemic, with thousands sick and dying and everyone forced to stay away from each other to prevent the spread of the virus, some companies, like Google, have wisely chosen to forsake the usual “funny” jokes we see across the web today.

Zinio had this in today’s newsletter:

“April Fools is not cancelled” would seem to be saying that what follows is a joke or prank. Does this mean “Get up to 40% off?” is a joke? No, it still applies. This is Zinio’s standard promo discount on magazines that they offer regularly.

Unless you use a very broad interpretation of April Fools as a “holiday” or special occasion to “celebrate”, this ad makes no sense at all. It’s confusing and ill-conceived.

It made me realize I don’t need to get these newsletters anymore, so thank you, Zinio ad department, for helping slim down my inbox with your inept attempt at humor.

Well, that was a month (March 2020 edition)

If I go back all the way to the start of the year–you know, three months ago–I had probably heard about the coronavirus that was starting to appear in China, but it was otherwise just another news story in the background, like so many others.

Today, two days from April, I am in my third week of working from home, the place I work is all but locked down, businesses that aren’t “essential services” are closed, transit is ghost trains and empty buses, and it’s still ridiculously difficult to buy toilet paper, which is a fitting epitaph for this species if we manage to extinguish ourselves–maybe not with this virus, but perhaps with another.

For the first time I am keenly aware of sharing the sidewalk with others. Walks are now solitary affairs, with wide berths given to others. Runs have become stressful exercises (ho ho) in avoidance. Visiting friends has gone virtual. I look at Facebook almost every day (ew).

It’s awful. But enough about Facebook.

The news coverage of COVID-19 is constant and ever-present. You can’t do anything without seeing or hearing the effects of the virus (as I write this, 16 stories on the CBC News website are about COVID-19. That’s all of the stories, by the way). I wonder how long I’ll be working from home; through April seems like a safe bet (UPDATE, September 30: lol as the kids say. I was mega-wrong here. The college I work at is sticking with online courses for most classes, until April…of 2021. By then work from home will have lasted over one full year). Beyond that, it all depends on how under control the virus is. This is the first global pandemic in the age of social media and easy, world-spanning travel, so we are in a very real sense in uncharted territory now.

Some things haven’t changed. I get up in the morning and have my usual breakfast. I work out on the treadmill. I write on this blog. But even the regular things have that undercurrent of unreality to them because I know these normal routines are set against a world that is operating dramatically differently than it was a couple of months ago.

I’m curious about what sort of blog post I’ll be making in June, as we reach the middle of the year and the start of summer. Will things be starting to return to normal, or will we be settling in for longer, more permanent changes to how our whole society works? I don’t know. I’m not even sure I want to know.

But we’ll see in three months. Until then, interesting times.

Two day ordering, pandemic edition

The order is for some lighting, so nothing critical or anything, but it underscores how Amazon is being slammed by everyone with so many physical stores currently shut down. My usual experience is for them to deliver ahead of schedule, now two day delivery has stretched to four weeks.

Just another sign of the times. It’s hard to believe just a month ago the world seemed relatively normal (awful in a lot of ways, but still normal).

Egg quest complete!

I didn’t even realize I was on an egg quest until I went shopping for eggs.

Of course, in this time of panic-buying and hoarding, the grocery store had no eggs. Like, none at all, not even the most expensive, free range “the chickens that laid these live better lives than you do” eggs.

I went across the street to Shoppers Drug Mart as they have a few aisles devoted to groceries. I wasn’t expecting them to have any eggs, but lo, they did! I grabbed a dozen (I didn’t see any signs indicating limits but I’m not a panic-filled hoarder) and went to the checkout…where the cashier was standing behind a giant plexiglass partition. It had a cutout in the bottom for me to slide the eggs through so he could scan them. He did so and placed the eggs and the receipt at the end of the till, away from his body.

It was a bit weird.

But now I can have eggs for breakfast for at least six days.