Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

It is clear from this series of diary posts that my ability to county is not on-point. We started our quarantine/self-isolating on March 17, 2020. That’s when Laura was told to work from home and when the City and County orders were in effect.

So today is day 32. Our fifth week of hunkering down together with our cats and our dog.

I have literally seen/interacted with 6 curbside staff, our pharmacist and 3 different techs in that department, five neighbors, our lawn guy, two restaurant pickup crew members, two veterinary technicians, and about a dozen donors of assorted items, mostly cat food and face masques. Since most of those things happened in clusters, it isn’t really much in the way of engagement. And only a dozen at most involved more than the most rudimentary conversation.

I have also washed my hands at least 520 times in that time period. That’s an odd juxtaposition. But we are both diligent hand washers. I get up early in the morning to pee, wash my hands. Get back up a few hours later, wash my hands, do some get ready for the day bathroom stuff, wash my hands again. Feed cats, wash hands. Feed dog, wash hands. Make coffee, wash hands. Open kitchen door to put recycling and trash outside, wash hands. Feed our feral cats, wash hands. <wipe down door knobs with bleach solution>

Eat breakfast, wash hands. Clean litter boxes, wash hands sometimes twice. Walk into the kitchen and forget why I’m there, wash hands. Retrieve mail, wash hands. housework/laundry/laptop work, wash hands. Change hand towel in kitchen, wash hands using new towel.

Basically, anytime I move, I insert a handwashing task into the series of events.

We have good soap. We bought some from Pip and Lola’s in March so it helps to have good scents when washing. We are also using up the very old refill bottle of liquid handsoap and it pretty much sucks. We figure we’ll need to keep that in the kitchen and bathroom for the forseeable future because guests aren’t going to want to use our partially rubbed bar of handsoap. Not really guests, I guess, so much as just random people who have to be here and recognizing that, will wash their hands.

Today was hard because I woke and remembered that I needed to write a RIP blog post for a young trans woman named Johanna Metzger. I couldn’t find many details last night when I learned about her death by stabbing on April 11. Today, I found more. Her family deadnamed and misgendered her in her final arrangements, even going so far as to designate memorial donations to anti-trans faith based group.

That’s stone cold.

Johanna was from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania so it feels especially hard. Our state Secretary of Health, Dr. Rachel Levine, is an trans woman and I worry for her. The comments section of her daily press briefings are appalling to read and it is just awful to think that trans folks and youth cannot simply watch her without being reminded of how little value they have to some of our most loud neighbors. It makes me sick to watch. I never read the comments. She’s a public figure so there’s little they can do. Or will do, I guess.

I feel like Johanna deserves a marker, a plaque, a bench, a tree that says “Johanna Metzger’s life had value” since her burial site does not. She deserves to be remembered. And mourned properly.

I have about 40 million projects going on.

This is hard. Being cooped up together for 30+ days is taxing and we are getting on each other’s nerves. At the same time, we are grateful to be together and cannot imagine enduring this any other way.

The critters are all okay. Ana seems to be recovering from her muscle injury. The cats are making mischief throughout the house. It is almost like they are acting out our feelings about being stir crazy, but their actual access to space hasn’t changed.

Here is Lennon watching KDKA.