So my last post has a title about how I hate the masks people are using. And I do hate them. I stand by that.

My understanding is the masks can help if they are used properly. Most people don't seem to know how to use them properly.

Some asshole in a mask today walked well within 6 feet of me. I guess if you have a mask, you are no longer contagious and can just ignore social distancing, amirite???


Some other asshole in a mask was rubbing their nose through their goddamn mask within a few feet of me. No, this does not make the mask a big improvement over not having a mask, good god.

People with masks fiddle with them and touch their face more, not less. I hate it. I hate it so very, very much.

I made the mistake of going on Twitter for a while last night for the first time in a while. People I like a lot are part of the crowd having hysterics about how everyone needs a fucking mask. Everyone is going to be the Gestapo of mask-wearing and, no, no one is going to listen to reason.

I know that I'm right. I know this because I've saved about 9.5 million dollars in medical expenses over the last 19 years and I've done that by practicing actual germ control not pretending to practice germ control by wearing a mask like it's a +2 magic item in the game of Pandemic and then otherwise acting like a butthead every single step of the way about actual germ control.

But, no, no one is ever going to listen to me. Given the general atmosphere of hysteria, speaking my mind, even on a low traffic blog, is potential trouble for me while doing zero good in the world.

Today, I have boat loads of anxiety. It is biologically based. I'm not clear why my anxiety is through the roof.

The world has lost its mind and there's nothing I can do to ameliorate that. I probably can't even protect myself in this case.

Today is not really a good day to be thinking about this stuff. I'm recuperating from about ten days of being underfed and I'm just a spaz. I can't focus. I'm not accomplishing anything. I have dark circles, but can't nap.

Overall, I'm healthier than I've been in years, but the day that my energy rises is often one of the most aggravating days because I have too much energy to just conk out but can't get my act together. Playing games is boring me to tears and meatier stuff is out of reach.

I started this post and then stopped writing to do snacks and drinks with my sons. My anxiety is down to more manageable levels now, which is just more evidence that it's biological.

My anxiety was bad enough for part of the day that my sons were following the best practice of "do not engage teh crazeh." That's something they normally reserve for when I'm seriously suicidal, which I haven't been in a while.

"A sound mind in a sound body" is a good rubric. The more stable my physical health, the more stable my mental health. Though, to be honest, when I'm in excruciating pain and doctors have no answers for me, I have a hard time seeing it as "crazy" to feel that death is my only hope of real relief.

Anyway, the main point of this post is that writing about what I know about health stuff seems completely pointless in the current climate. There is a pandemic on. No, no one wants to hear my point of view even more than usual and people have long been pretty darn hostile.

I'm having one of those days where I don't actually want to be a blogger. I write because I "must," but I'm having one of those days where I feel it's a horrible evil trap that has me talking to myself plus a few evil stalkers who I wish would drop the fuck dead and I otherwise don't seem to have an audience.