Numbers are breaking records everywhere. Those who started school this week (not us) have, in many cases, already stopped. Bobby and Theo passed their PCR tests - I told them both they got a 65. Ha.
I have had two negative at home tests but I wouldn’t be surprised if I have it still. An announcement was made that someone tested positive from our NYE gig. I’ve got some minor throat irritation going on. Is it covid or is it allergies? Who knows. We’ll never know. I do know that they posit that if your threshold of virus is so low it can’t be detected on a home test then odds are you aren’t contagious. And NYE was almost a week ago to the day. You’d think the kids would be positive or I would be showing signs at this point if I picked something up from either gig.
My sister is visiting. I’m spending these last days off school entertaining her and making sure the kids brush teeth twice a day and occasionally throwing food at them and cuddling with the cat while watching long hours of Love Island UK because that’s exactly where my brain needs to go right now. Romance, sex, gossip, heartbreak, betrayal. I’m here for it. Anything but trying to calculate when we’re all finally going to catch covid. Anything but that.
We went to the desert Sunday and met with the neighbor that could be our new contractor. It was strange to see the odd oblong box that is our future vacation home. The neighbor appears very competent and willing - I’ve waited all week for some kind of broken down estimate to finish the job - bathroom structure built, door and windows, porch, roof finished, stove installed. I can’t make any decisions until I know what he’s going to charge. We may do the more cosmetic stuff ourselves. I have had no contact with the original contractor. I am crossing all fingers that we can work with this new guy. I don’t think there’s much escaping the fact that I am going to have to pay twice over for this place to be built. There will be no justice here, I’m afraid.
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