I did not start writing when I had the thought I wanted to write and now I have no thoughts to write. 

1,549 Coronavirus cases reported In Illinois in the past day. Another 20 people died in the past day as well, bringing the total number of deaths in the state to 7,657. We've had 167,371 deaths in the US. 

I wish I could just run to the grocery down the block and buy whatever hardy green they have and cook something random for dinner, but we minimize our trips to the store. And a trip to the store for one meal is completely off the table. 

I miss living like that. I miss cooking like that. A very large part of the reason I live in this city, in this neighborhood is in order to live like that. And now that's not safe. That's dismissive of the people who have no choice but to go to work to keep the stores open, to keep their own bills paid. I'm not going anywhere, so I'm not walking anywhere. 

In the olden days, even if I rode my bike to work (instead of taking the bus), I walked 3 miles a day, at least, just getting around. These days, I don't even manage a quarter mile. I'm stiff and sore and have aged three years from inactivity. 

8/11 '20

I am trying to get back into American yoga. We've canceled our gym membership--not feeling comfortable going any time soon, among other reasons. So I've been using the DownDog app which is the best at-home yoga I've yet run across. 

The pandemic thing I've been thinking about this week is how sedentary I've become. It's not several half-mile walks to bus stops, or 4 mile bike rides to and from the office, or 1 to 2 mile walks from the house to the bar or store every day. It's not standing around talking in those bars or walking between buildings for meetings. 

It's getting out of bed to move 10 feet to the desk. Maybe walking the 85 feet from the sunroom to the kitchen. Going up and down the stairs to the basement twice a week. Every night, playing the video games, sitting still. 

I am stiff. I am aching. I lose my balance reaching for things. I spent a few hours crawling around on the floor, trying to lay out and cut 5 yards of fabric and I thought I'd die. 

Another backgruond disruption, another way I'm caught on my back foot constantly, the way I'm not using my body at all. I'm never moving through space anymore. I miss the very safe surrounding aloneness of walking along a city street, riding seven miles on a non-express bus route, sitting in a hotel bar. 

7/27 '20