PMS

Los Angeles, California

It's a pandemic. Why do I write Los Angeles at the top of each post? It's not like I'm going anywhere... Oh well.

Who needs to read a blog post about PMS, right? I know what you're thinking. But you're wrong. This PMS is Pandemic Mood Syndrome. Or for some, maybe Panic Mood Swing. I ain't swinging that much, thanks to my workout routine. But I did have one really big meltdown after about three nights of bad sleep. Not that I ever sleep really well, but this was bad -- like a series of about twenty short naps each night, instead of sustained sleep. It started with a fireworks blast in my neighborhood. Fireworks are clearly a problem right now. You get the equation, right? Pandemic = Fireworks. Seriously, I have no idea how or why this is happening. It has been reported that there are conspiracy theories tied to this. But I suspect that fireworks manufacturers/distributors have hit hard times as most of the places where fireworks are so common: Disneyland; the Hollywood Bowl, etc., are not ordering fireworks. So, a surplus of fireworks and some of them ending up in my usually quiet neighborhood. This one was a blast. It sounded like someone had blown up a house. My walls and windows shook. When NASA was unable to land the space shuttles in Florida, they would land here in California, breaking the sound barrier coming in. This was like that sonic boom. And it was 10:30 at night. My heart pounded, and I walked around from room to room trying to figure out A) what it was, and B) what I needed to do. I didn't figure out what it was, but the lack of police or fire department sirens convinced me that no one had blown anything up. And after a period of time, I decided the only thing to do was to go to bed. I later learned that it was something like an M-80 (a neighbor told me this and I hope I got that number right) firecracker and that it had the neighborhood texting and calling each other. Said neighbor also said I could text them anytime, even at 10:30 at night, which was kind. For the next few weeks, I was aware of every sound in the neighborhood as well as every sound my house made at night. And it is a noisy house. The fireworks continue, though none so percussive as that night. But that started a cycle of insomnia which in turn caused the meltdown one morning over the phone with Joel.

I had just seen my doctor, which I was looking forward to because I wanted his thoughts on how we are doing with Covid19. He reaffirmed what I already knew: That this thing is not to be trifled with, and that we need to take care of each other by following what is common sense in a pandemic. I am too young to remember the polio pandemic, but I wonder if everyone followed the pandemic guidelines at that time? Youtube is currently full of scenes of people throwing fits at Costco and Trader Joe's because they are asked to put on their masks. It's... almost... funny. But it's not. I am shocked, really shocked at the degree to which everyone is all over the spectrum of response to the virus. I shouldn't be. I see people running stop signs and red lights every day. And, that could kill someone. Have we simply gotten to a degree of entitlement, that we are all going to do whatever we feel like in total disregard for our community and world? What would Sandra do...? I mean, seriously, my blog is named that because Sandra once, in frustrated exasperation, threw a What would Jesus do? at her husband, John, when he was misbehaving. We were at a bar drinking martinis, so it was a stretch to conjure Jesus up. But after that, Tom had coined What would Sandra do? because Sandra, in spite of being one of most fun friends I have ever had, seemed to always exemplify decent behavior. Not to play the faith card here, but I think that it's not a bad idea to pattern ourselves after some good model, whether Jesus or Sandra. I have those good models in this pandemic. But I also see entitlement, and I see cavalier behavior. It is only your right to risk getting this disease, if you are going to quarantine from the time of contracting the disease, thereby mitigating the risk of giving it to others. But, you can't do that, because you are presymtomatic before onset and possibly, asymptomatic throughout the course of the disease. This is not rocket science. In fact, it's kindergarten science.

So, I had a meltdown. I had been invited to a friend's home for dinner. I knew they would make it a safe gathering. And it was to be my first social gathering since mid-March. And I was confused. They live nearby in my neighborhood. No freeways involved: Doable. I was to bring nothing but wine: Doable. I now had a collection of masks (the one that matched my outfit was in the laundry, but mismatched mask: Doable). And then the problems started. The news reported that California, and particularly LA, had taken an upward curve in the Covid Count. It was discribed as a "hockey stick" uptick. I got stressed about this. But my host is a physician, and known to be cautious. If they were staying the course, I was in. Then the trouble really started: first in my closet. What did I used to wear to dinner parties? I managed to wash my hair, but the process of applying make-up stymied me. It took me longer to get ready than it used to and I arrived late and flustered at their home. But, in a pandemic, maybe this is to be expected. And ultimately, I had a great time. We stayed outside; dined on a wonderful dinner while maintaining a full 6-feet distance from each other. We did not hug. We observed all the rules, and I was glad I had attended.

Right now, everything is complicated and just pretty darn weird. I don't intend to socialize much through this. But I am grateful for all the phone conversations and Facetimes I have shared with friends. It's important to be there for each other. I mean, it's always important to be there for each other. As the song goes, That's what friends are for. But even more so now. In the middle of a pandemic. And suffering from Pandemic Mood Syndrome, which, unfortunately does not only come once a month. There's no cure for this virus. At least, not yet. For now, you just gotta ride it out. And a disease with no cure nor effective treatment is a lot like running a red light. It is only your right to dice with death when it won't impact others. So, let us try to remember that we're all in this thing together. It's what Sandra would do. Thank you for reading my blog.