I hate being sick. I hate being sick any time but especially on a beautiful early spring Saturday. I was supposed to go to a protest today. Instead, I’m on my couch in my pajamas with fever, chills, and stomach cramps.
This just happened this morning. I felt fine yesterday and last night. We went to the Capitals game and sat with 30,000 of our closest friends watching the Capitals come back from a 2-0 first period deficit to win 5-2 against Detroit. We were surrounded by Detroit fans who left the arena dejected and disappointed. I hope they didn’t also leave with norovirus or whatever it is that has me laid out this morning.
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Capital One Arena was almost full. Alex Ovechkin is ten goals away from passing Wayne Gretzky as the top NHL goal scorer of all time, and everyone wants to be there for every goal. Alex didn’t score last night, but everyone else did.
Metro was oddly quiet for a Friday game night. We had a car almost to ourselves and the ride from Glenmont to Judiciary was very quick. When we emerged from the Metro at Judiciary (the coolest Metro exit, with the National Building Museum filling your view as you ride the escalator up to the street), we noticed how quiet the neighborhood was. A few people were out, but most of them looked like they were on their way home from work rather than on their way out for a fun Friday evening. We got a table at the Irish Channel almost immediately - unheard of for a Friday night, especially when the Capitals are playing. The atmosphere in the Channel was subdued - not quiet, exactly, but not raucous and celebratory. Subdued. The whole town is subdued.
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It’s Sunday morning and it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day. I feel much better this morning; drained and unusually tired (this is the new normal) but no longer sick. It’s such a relief. One of the things I hate most about being sick is my own particular big baby whiny reaction to being sick. Halfway through a day of COVID or flu or a stomach bug, I’m resigning myself to a life of infirmity, certain that I’ll never feel well again. It’s ridiculous. God help me if I ever have to deal with a real health problem. I’ll be absolutely insufferable.
It’s almost 10 o’clock. It feels earlier, of course, because today is the first day of Daylight Savings Time. One hour of sleep in exchange for six months of later daylight? I’ll take it. That’s the deal of the century.
I’m going to do something today. I don’t know what. Something. It’s going to be a busy week at work, which is normally my favorite kind of week at work but everything is upside down now and we’re spending all our time just responding to ridiculous edicts and Executive Orders and waiting for the hammer to fall. This is not as much fun as it sounds, I tell you what. And this week is going to be especially interesting because the CR that’s currently funding the government runs out in five days and who knows what they’re doing to avert a shutdown. I’ll work Monday through Friday and if they haven’t come to an agreement on a CR by Friday afternoon, I’ll follow the news until midnight to see if I’ll be working after next weekend. Exciting. Bracing. We live on the edge in this town.
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What’s better than a secret tunnel? Well, some things but not that many, I tell you, not that many. I’ve worked at Naval Support Activity Bethesda for three years now, but I’ve always driven to work and so until this morning, I never knew that there was a tunnel under Rockville Pike connecting Medical Center Metro on the NIH side of the street to NSAB on the other. My husband drove me to work this morning since parking enforcement is now in full effect, and I don’t have a parking pass. You can’t really drop someone off right at the base without causing a huge traffic jam, so I told him to drop me off at the Metro station, and I would either take the shuttle or walk.
I know that there’s a shuttle between the Metro and the University. I see people boarding it every afternoon. But I have no idea where on the other side it picks up and drops off, and the parking and drop-off at Medical Center Metro is big and confusing, so I decided to just walk, because it was a nice morning. And just as I was thinking that I hoped that I wouldn’t get hit by a car crossing the very busy Rockville Pike, I noticed the signs for the underpass to NSAB. Genius! I breezed through the little tunnel and up the stairs on the other side, emerging just at the turnstiles at Gate 3. From there it’s a little bit of a walk past the hospital annex buildings - all told just about 1.4 miles from the Metro Kiss and Ride to my desk in Building D. The sun had just come up (we work early) and it was still chilly so I kept a brisk pace. It was a nice way to start the day - energizing. Still, I need to figure out where to get that shuttle because that walk won’t be fun and delightful if it’s raining or really cold.
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It’s Tuesday now. I should be working and I am kind of working but I cannot concentrate and so I am taking a break to write about why I cannot concentrate, which is basically all of this (gesturing wildly at everything). Well, all of this but specifically the continuing resolution vote in the House, upon which my immediate work future depends. I know that they’re voting today and I just heard a few minutes of stupid Mike Johnson claiming simultaneously that he has the votes to pass the CR but that if it doesn’t pass, it’s the Democrats’ fault. Which one, Mr. Speaker? It can’t be both. And if you really had the votes, then why did you need to hold a press conference? You could have just held a vote, you know?
I will be furloughed if the government shuts down. But I do not want to see one single Democrat vote for this funding package. Their only job right now is to resist Musk and Trump and Vance and Johnson and their evil plan to turn the US into a Russia-style dictatorship and oligarchy. I need my paycheck but I don’t need it more than I need a free country.
Still, I wish they’d get this over with one way or another. I really can’t concentrate.
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One of the reasons for this post and others like it is to document my life, especially right now. I’m sure my blog will be very useful to future historians researching the lives of middle-aged DMV suburban ladies in the Screaming 20s. Or the Shrieking 20s. I can’t decide which is better. The internet will figure that out.
But I must admit that the real reason for this post to have gone on for days is that I still - STILL - need to finish my 2024 book post, not to mention my neighborhood association meeting minutes, and this is a way to avoid doing those things. So I’m going to wrap this up now. The book post is next. Who knows, maybe I’ll have plenty of time next week. Maybe I’ll have all the time in the world.
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