When my part of the world halted in mid-March, I figured the situation wouldn’t be remedied by March 31st, the date of my latest dental appointment. The clinic texted a cancellation a week later. They only accepted dental emergencies at that time.

Months later, I felt a potential dental emergency brewing among my left molars. Could’ve been the occasional lodged food despite nightly flossing. Even with that good habit, one needs a trained professional to pick and scrape at one’s teeth every six months.

Instead, I trained my electric toothbrush on the troubled spot, gave it an extra flossing and rinsed with a “restorative” mouthwash in the hopes that I could triage the situation. All I could think of was dying from some oral abscess because I didn’t want to catch the plague by going to the dentist.

I’ve never hated going to the dentist. So, this feeling was a new thing for me. If anything, I was rather nerdy about regular dentist trips.

I was far too elated when the dentist’s office texted me out of the blue to schedule an appointment. Similar to the excitement I had as a child when the tooth fairy left money under my pillow. Except for this time around, I didn’t want any teeth to fall out. Bad enough seeing blood after brushing. OK, TMI.

Following the new protocol, the receptionist asked me a series of COVID-19 related questions as part of the appointment process. On the day of the appointment, I parked and sat in the car to call the clinic, letting them know I had arrived. I came as close to my appointed time as I could because I didn’t want to wait in the car too long in triple degree heat. Even though I’d parked in the shade with the windows rolled down, nothing beat good ol’ AC, which had apparently gone out at some point while my car sat mostly idle over the past couple of months.

A few minutes later, the receptionist called. She unlocked the front door, stepped out, and pointed the thermometer gun at my head. All I could think was, “Of course the time I don’t have AC, I’m going to blow this appointment.”

Fortunately, she checked my temperature again once we were inside the clinic after their AC had a chance to work its magic. Clearing that hurdle, I learned that they’d charge me a $10 fee for the extra COVID-19 cleaning, which I was assured most dental insurances would cover. (Ha, not my insurance!) At least my dental/vision insurers had lowered the premium by $10/month, so perhaps, in a way, they had covered it.

Although everyone was masked and had a face shield, the appointment went smoothly. Probably the most enjoyable dental visit ever, because in a sad way, it was a social outing. You know you’ve been in quarantine too long when a trip to the dentist counts as a “social outing.”

I was so excited to break the monotony of my weekly routine that I forgot to hand the dental hygienist my night guard for a cleaning. So, there’s another thing that has to wait until 2021.

Austin had an unhoused population prior to the pandemic.

Yet like all other inequities, this has become more visible with a growing population of recently unemployed people under the threat of being evicted. Despite this dire situation, new condos, still under construction, loom in the backdrop of these unhoused campers.

There’s a severe disconnect between landlords and tenants. Somehow, the rise in people who could potentially be evicted, unless saved by government assistance or the grace of charity, has not deterred real estate investors from building new condos. This would only make sense if the people who were camping in front of the new condos were the future occupants.

Even though I’m a former math/science teacher, I cannot follow the logic behind building more housing that very few of us can afford at a time when more of us are under constant stress of being evicted. In other words, who are these people, besides other investors, that are going to buy or rent these new condos?

In my elementary understanding of real estate, lucrative cashflow can be made through monthly rent. Now if the current occupants lose their jobs and/or unemployment is insufficient to pay full rent, then there’s less cashflow. By evicting those tenants, the landlord must still pay taxes and utilities until another tenant moves in. How does that work during a pandemic?

Even with my own rent situation, the leasing office offered my roommate and I a deal: if we signed a 10-month lease instead of a 12-month lease, then we could pay the same amount as we’ve paid for the past 14 months. Why 10 months, you ask? Well, in the prepandemic version of our civilization, July and August were the most popular months to move.

Now, I can somewhat understand that logic. The leasing office is gambling that by July 2021, all this shit will be sorted out and people will have their regular income again. This gamble is not apparently taking into account that this pandemic has triggered a recession. So, instead of trying to incentivize current tenants to remain in place without any rent increase, they should DECREASE the rent.

Wait, did I just type that out loud?

Why yes, motherfuckers, I did! Because I’ve read that in places like Manhattan, those landlords have seen a mass exodus. They’re now scrambling to offer a few months rent-free to attract new tenants. To which I say: LOWER THE DAMN RENT.

What tenants are looking for at this point isn’t a shiny new condo, but inexpensive, hopefully safe, accommodations. Those new condos can come with all the bells and whistles as far as amenities are concerned, but without the most attractive feature, affordable rent, then what’s the point? There cannot possibly be positive cashflow if the rent is calculated based on 2019.

It’s been a long time coming, but I’ve finally reached a destination so many have reported: the Blursdays. I believe people with children, and just one child will do it, reached this destination sooner. It’s where one day blurs into the other with very little distinction.

Since my days vary, but the weeks don’t, I’m a relative newcomer to the Blursdays. I’ve cycled through a similar Monday through Sunday routine since mid March and now find myself in mid August.

Even most holidays are merely celebrated by watching the holiday version of TV. Except for Memorial Day. On that day, George Floyd’s murder sparked worldwide protest against police brutality and the systemic racism which incubates such egregious activities.

The protests and the plague march on.

Now it’s back-to-school season. The composition of the protesters have morphed into educators, parents and students versus politicians who never have to step into a school. Since I’m childfree, my weekly Blursday activities haven’t changed due to the school calendar–only the TV and internet content. (I’m also not on social media, but I trust that’s changing similarly.)

Converging with this perfect storm that’s brewing to wipe us out of our developed nation status, USPS is being sabotaged to undermine the upcoming presidential elections. The safest way to vote during a pandemic is by mail-in ballot. Yet, one political party believes that they will only win if fewer people have less voting access.

At the same time, their favored demographic is also affected. As if being at risk of catching the plague wasn’t bad enough, mailed prescription medications for pre-existing conditions have been delayed.

Not to mention online businesses, small businesses and entrepreneurial side hustlers who rely on USPS to serve their customer orders, using the formerly most cost-effective means. USPS is a highly rated government agency that supports so many other aspects of American life. Yet, some politicians act as if USPS should be run as a business rather than a government-run entity that’s actually part of our infrastructure.

Nonetheless, I’m viewing all this chaos from a slow spinning top, where the scenery around me changes while my reduced activity does not. Who knows where this spinning top will eventually land. It’s amazing to think how so many of us are hunkered down waiting out this waterless flood just to pioneer a country with very little infrastructure to hold society together.

For now, it’s just blurring by a day at a time.

The week after the March 13th shelter in place declaration, I started live-streaming yoga classes from the comfort of my home.

For several weeks, the yoga instructors also taught from the comfort of their homes, with another yoga instructor in their own home as the “demo” yogi.

Then, due to both economic and political pressure, Texas started to reopen. I’ve not yet bothered to learn the fine differences among the stages, designated as 1 through 5, because my sense of logic immediately rejected the rush to reopen.

The day after the highest number of reported COVID-19 infections, Texas started to reopen. From then on, I’ve not given a damn about which particular stage number we’re actually on. All I know, my livestream yoga instructors returned to the studio and taught class to both virtual yogis and a socially-distanced, reduced number of in-studio yogis.

In-studio yogis had to register online prior to their arrival, wear their masks coming and going to class, and take their showers once they returned home. Originally, they could remove their masks when they were on their mat. Then, due to a change of “stage number,” yogis had to practice with their masks on. Then, yogis had the option to practice with their masks on or off, but the instructors continued to teach with their masks on.

With all the mask wearing, the sale of lipstick decreased 15%. Even the president, who consistently downplayed the pandemic, to the extent that he called it a hoax, was finally publicly seen wearing a mask.

COVID-19 parties are all the rage among college students and other young adults. EXCEPT the coronavirus may be more like a cold rather than the chicken pox when it comes to developing immunity. EXCEPT young people are dying from the infection even though they have no preexisting conditions. EXCEPT this is the plague. Not a hoax.

Speaking of hoaxes…on his deathbed in a San Antonio hospital, an unidentified 30-year-old man confessed to his caregivers that prior to catching the plague, he thought the pandemic was a hoax. Would it be too callous for me to say that he was dead wrong? Or is it now appropriate to have a sick sense of humor?

People who proclaim to be pro-life won’t wear a mask to save lives. Apparently, that pro-life stance is only important when controlling pregnant women.

This is the stage we’re in.