I’ve had an itchy throat for a week because of the ozone machine. It’s in the bathroom, see, a solution Don came up with because he’s been trying to quit smoking, and in a community where that’s banned, it was the best way to cover up the smell. I know, I have the Medify filters, but they don’t do well when you’re smoking in the same room. So he got the thing, which yes, produces ozone as he told me that’s what casinos use to cover up that musty air and smoke. It does work, and makes rooms smell like chlorine and chemicals, something I don’t particularly adore. We’ve fought about that a few times because he’s used to to deodorize the closets, mostly due to stinky shoes. I can absolutely smell it, it’s not an organic smell to me, though it is probably made of organic elements, I just hate it.

We got wine drunk as we often do last Saturday, and he had the thing running–it created a nice little irritation in my throat, something that swelled up and caused me to hack for a good half hour after. I got mad at him, and trying to prove a point, sat in the bathroom with the machine running, smoking half a cigarette which didn’t help, of course, the next day. I’d been mad at him for the machine, for smoking, for us drinking, when it wasn’t really his fault I was drinking. We got so used to drinking since the last election–I’ve alluded to us becoming election alcoholics, as we absolutely turned into that for a long long time, but we’ve been able to curb it in our new location. Now, we drink once a week, sometimes twice, which is a vast vast improvement to our big and cheaps every day with another single thrown in when we were especially thirsty. I think even once a week is too much for me anymore–I cannot do shit when we do the next day. It’s like erasing all chance of productivity in exchange for a few hours of fun.

Obviously a dry cough is an alarming thing right now and though it doesn’t happen all day, it happens every few hours and the accompanying fever never materialized, so for now, I don’t have to reveal a corona diagnosis since the only thing I seem to have is deep throat irritation. I’ve got the PulseOx, the thermometer and nothing has been off too much, but my oxygen levels have slipped down to 95 a few times, though with enough of my concentration, I can pull it up to 99. Obviously with him working in a building with reported infections, my paranoia is high. If either one of us got it, we would both have it, as we are definitely not two people who are physically allergic to each other. If nothing else, that’s been one consistent throughout our nearly ten years together–we have a lot of sex.

Now, the next election hasn’t created any real great sense of comfort in my brain. This country is insane largely, which you can see reading just the smallest bit of news, and ultimately we have too many people braindead to that reality and too much propaganda ruining things to make me feel comforted. But being numb to that reality probably won’t help things. At this point we’ve all see that the people with money have all the power, and since I have none, it’s time to turn myself into someone who has some.

So I told him that I cannot drink anymore right now and I have to denote this since I am less likely to keep promises on shit I don’t write down. I think the solution might be buying him a 6 pack of beer so he can take the load of in other ways. Clearly we aren’t in pot-loving Colorado anymore, so the chances for relief and recreation are different things. I haven’t smoked weed in almost 2 months now, which is actually quite a change over the past 15 years. There is no easy way to get it, and I am not adventurous enough to leave the house for shit that is non-essential, and being high is definitely definitely not that at all. What is essential is I start getting shit done so I can get my hair done, facials, waxes and buy a few shirts. I literally have like 6 shirts I wear which is a lot insane for the girl who legit has thrown away 100 contractor bags full of clothing over the past decade. I think I might have overdone the donations as I think about pieces I gave up allofthetime though I’ll admit those are mostly dresses. I can recall some back to 1998 I wish I still had, but what I do seem to own an overage of are dresses. There is no sense wearing dresses here 7 months a year I am noticing, so I am a lot short of having stuff to wear. So yes. Job. I had a dream I got my old job back last time working for the travel company–granted that’s not going to happen since I scorch-earthed it out. I always wanted to quit jobs in epic fashion, tell the owners or management how fucked up they were in not managing and I did it with a bar job and a corporate job now. I suppose it was easy enforcement I’ve always wanted to do my own thing, and now in a place I am not familiar with anyone or anything, this is the only fucking choice I have.

By the way, in related news regarding protecting yourself from coronavirus, I finally found the best masks money can buy. Keep in mind I have bought no less than 5 now in my search for the best. These guys are on point, make the best most comfortable masks that allow you to adjust the fasteners behind the ear and have the KEY copper components and filtration to be as good as N95s. The previous incarnations I had and forced Don to wear were also copper infused with an outside liner, but now he is wearing one of these as well as a more decorative outside version, made by a friend.