Pandemic Thoughts

I haven't been writing much. I have been very, very burned out and have been neglecting a lot of hobbies. I feel like I should say something about the coronavirus pandemic. Most of what I have to say has already been said so I won't lecture you too much.

I work in skilled nursing and we had a wave of it go through out building. Fortunately, most of our staff and residents had mild cases. We did have a small number of fatalities among residents and a few hospitalizations and one staff member in the ICU, but for the most part we got through it with minimal complications. Not every facility was that lucky, so I consider ourselves lucky. We cleared the cases in our building and were Covid-free, testing our staff and residents on a weekly basis, and we were finally accepting new admissions. 

Then, the spouse of a staff member tested positive. They were an essential worker in another industry; I'm not sure if it was retail or agriculture or what, but they were exposed. Our staff member stayed home as soon as this was realized, however it was too late. Last I heard we had three new confirmed positive residents and one suspected case who had symptoms.

I've heard some say "just isolate the vulnerable and reopen for everyone else." What that fails to take into consideration is that the vulnerable population can't be totally isolated. Our residents have been locked down in their rooms since March. But their caregivers still need to to get food, get medications, go to the doctor, and be out in the community. They may live with others who are essential workers who face the public.

We get tested weekly at my workplace. Which means in less than a week, this staff member who had been negative was exposed and spreading it before we could catch it. It's no fault of the staff member or their spouse. It just demonstrates how incredibly contagious this disease is and also how quickly after exposure you can start spreading it without knowing it.

So for the love of your community and your vulnerable neighbors, the absolute BEST things you can do are wear a mask and follow social distancing. Because this thing is so contagious, even when not showing symptoms, there's no simply "isolating the vulnerable". It takes everyone to pitch in to control the spread of this thing. You could be sharing it and not even know. Please, I am pleading with you, mask up!

Most Annoying Recipe: Easy Peanut Noodles

So I'm going pretty much straight between work and home during the pandemic these days, and figured I'd try my hand at writing a recipe. You know those annoying blog recipes where they tell their entire life's story before you get to the recipe? Don't worry, I'm not going to do that to you!

Instead, I'm going to make this so, so much worse...

Ingredients

• 1 package of whatever noodles are still available on grocery store shelves (I usually use rice noodles, but during the pandemic work with what you can find)
• 1/2 cup peanut butter
• 1/2 cup soy sauce
• Sriracha to taste
• A couple cups of cut up veggies; I usually use broccoli and carrots but go nuts with whatever you want
• Some protein for this sucker: either a couple chicken breasts cooked and diced; a cube of tofu cooked, diced, and faux-fried; or a cup of edamame are good options
• About a pound of existential dread

Start by boiling water for your noodles in a large pot and cutting up your veggies (and if your protein needs to cook, now's a good time to do that). Some people salt their water for pasta. Growing up, we never did this (that's right, I'm throwing this shit right in the middle of the recipe. You were warned by the title) because we were on a low-sodium diet, so Mom NEVER added salt to anything. It was a sad and tasteless existence. When I finally moved out on my own and discovered salt, it was a godsend! See, sodium ions can help block bitter tastes from our taste buds, enhancing the more pleasant tastes in a dish. I missed out on all that goodness growing up. So I say go ahead and salt the water. You only live once.

Once you get your water to a rolling boil, go ahead and reduce heat and add your noodles. Rice noodles will cook quickly whereas spaghetti and linguine noodles will take longer. I don't know how long noodles take to cook; you cook them until they're tender. Did you really reach adulthood without knowing how to cook noodles? Just take a noodle out every once in a while and nosh down on it...if the texture seems right then they're done. There's also a trick where you're supposed to be able to throw a noodle on your cabinet doors and if they stick it's done or something...that always seemed like too much of a mess for me. I'm trusting you to figure out how to cook your noodles. 

While your noodles are cooking it's time to make your peanut sauce. In a medium bowl, combine your peanut butter, soy sauce, and about 1 tbsp of your sriracha sauce (more is fine...in fact I usually use more, but sometimes I cook for pansy-asses who require less). Now you gotta mix them together. This part sucks because you're going to quickly discover that peanut butter and soy sauce don't like each other. In science class, we learned about different types of mixtures as solutions, suspensions, and colloids. Solutions are clear with homogeneous particle distribution. Suspensions are cloudy with particles that will settle and separate out when still. Colloids are sort of in-between; cloudy but stable and homogeneous.

We're making an emulsion here, which is a subclass of colloid. Milk is an example of an emulsion. In our case, we have oily peanut butter and watery soy sauce. It's going to take more mixing than you think to make them mix together. It's going to look like some sort of horror at first as you have this lump of peanut butter just sort of rolling around in a pool of soy sauce. You're going to think I'm full of shit, telling you to mix these together. But then suddenly it's as if the ingredients just sort of surrender, and they magically start to mix. You have to keep it up though. Don't let them win. 

In the last few minutes of your noodles cooking, add your veggies and let them cook with the noodles. I usually use broccoli and carrots, but you can substitute out virtually whatever vegetables you like. I like the broccoli and my dog likes the carrots. He'll beg for them and sit there and gnaw at them while I finish cooking. Sometimes he'll eat the broccoli too, but he doesn't like it as much. He eats it more out of stubbornness than actual enjoyment of the vegetable.

When the veggies and noodles are done, all that's left is to strain them, mix in your sauce and protein, and then top with more sriracha as desired!

I hope that recipe was thoroughly annoying. Stay home and have a safe quarantine y'all!

Reflections on a decade

All over Facebook people were like "where were you a decade ago?" and posting their pictures from 2009/2010 in comparison to now. I thought it would be fun so I looked up my photos from 2009. There weren't many, and I was dismayed at what I found, as they were all pictures from my wedding. I was making the mistake of a lifetime, and suddenly all the memories came rushing back.

The last decade for me has been a transformative one. It's also been a gut-wrenchingly painful one. I entered 2010 freshly married and for the first six years of the decade continued existing in a progressively deteriorating abusive relationship. Then came what I dub the "year of hell" when the marriage finally imploded and I suddenly had to juggle two jobs, school, internships, divorce, therapy, graduation, board exams, and ultimately moving across the state to a strange city all alone to start everything over. It was an essential shift and I definitely needed out of that relationship, but it hurt like hell going through it. Ever since then, I've been slowly rebuilding. There have been ups and downs along the way. I lost my Grandpa. I rescued a lovely little furbaby guinea pig who saw me through most of the decade before she passed. Overall, however, I'm definitely coming out of the decade in a better place than I was going in.

So no, I won't be sharing pictures from a decade ago on social media. I wish I could reach through the photo albums to slap myself of a decade ago across the face. I wish I had never gone through with that marriage. I wish I had the strength to leave it when I felt I needed to instead of waiting it out for so long. I wish I had done a lot of things differently this last decade.

Of course, if I hadn't gone through all that, I would have never felt the drive to improve my situation, to go back to school, to stumble into a career that I love. So it's a bit of a catch-22. I regret a lot of things, but I also wouldn't be where I am without it those things. Go figure.

Here's hoping the next decade doesn't hurt as bad. *knocks on wood*

On traveling solo and finding your tribe

Since I am single with weird workdays off, I do a lot of solo traveling. This seems to freak people out. "That's not safe!" "You shouldn't do that!" "You're going to get murdered!" I've heard it all. People are so caught up in stranger danger that they think everyone is out to get everyone else.

Well, it's either solo travel or curl up in my bed and become a human burrito, so fuck it, I'm travelling solo.

I choose to believe that people are generally good. Yeah, there's weirdos out there, but they're the exception. Whenever I've found myself in need, strangers have come to help, whether it's a car wreck or whatever sort of emergency situation people want to help. I think people are generally good, so I keep an open mind when I travel, and that's how I find my tribe. Even as shy and introverted as I tend to be, I still manage to meet good people while I'm out and about.

On a trip to a tulip festival, I was at a brewery and made friends with the gal next to me. She was also travelling solo. We made fun of the sportscast show that was on the TV and discussed our favorite haunts along the I-5 corridor. Our time together was brief and we'll likely never meet again, but for those two hours we found solidarity and kinship.

Recently I went on my first solo camping trip. Next to me was a chapter of the Oregon League of Women. They saw I was alone and invited me over, and we spent the evening at their campfire sharing stories of our adventures. They were a tribe and they welcomed me in for a night, and I found with them a circle of warmth, safety, and camaraderie.

"How can you travel alone?" The secret is I don't travel alone. I travel by myself, but seldom do I find myself alone.

Try it sometime. Put down the phone and chat up the person next to you, wherever you're at. Actually speak with your Uber driver. Sign up for an event by yourself and talk to the people there. Embrace the adventure and the unknown. Talk to strangers. When you do, you'll find your tribe in places you least expect.

Started from the bottom now we're...here, I guess?

I know it's been a while since I've written. I got a lot of partial drafts of things saved but haven't had energy to write in months. But I've come to a crossroads and need to sort out my head.

I'm losing my job. Sort of. My company lost their contract with the facility I work at. I've been offered a new position with the new company stepping in to take over. This means I lose all my seniority and benefits with my old company and have to start over from scratch. I really love my current company and being forced to leave sucks. It's very frustrating and there's been a lot of crying and freaking out about it.

It makes me feel like a failure. Last year after my rent kept increasing, I had to downgrade between renting my own home to renting a room in a house with roommates, and losing the independent feeling I had living on my own. I've been single for months, choosing to focus on my career instead. Now, that's going down the drain, and I'm left trying to grasp for something meaningful in my life and coming up empty. It feels like everything is falling apart around me and no matter what I do, I just slip backwards.

But I've been here before. Facebook kindly reminded me recently that three years ago, I was recently divorced, pseudo-homeless living out of a motel on North First Street in a city where I was alone and knew no one, starting a career in a completely new field I had no prior experience in. I had no money as I'd drained my savings to make the move work, and my car had broken down on the drive over the mountain pass and was off in the shop for weeks. I was starting over with almost nothing, alone, and admittedly terrified.

Things aren't quite as dire, and I keep trying to keep that perspective. I have a functioning car and a semi-permanent residence. There isn't as much money as I would like in my savings, but I'm not flat broke riding on credit either. I've gotten three good years of experience in my new career, and I have a second income with the same type of work to back me up. I have good friends both in work and outside of work.

So, I can do this. It feels like I'm starting over, but I need to keep reminding myself I've been through worse. I might be hitting a reset button on the job, but I've still made progress in other areas of my life. This is just another chapter in a very long book, and I can get through it.

In the meantime, I am currently accepting all positive thoughts and vibes as I wade through this transition.

On chicken purses and financial responsibility

On Friday, which for me is like Monday, I started up my car and noticed a soft grinding noise whenever I turned the wheel to the right. It was still there at the coffee shop and I thought, "That's concerning. I should get that looked at Monday."

Two miles later as I pulled into work, the grinding had escalated to an awful metallic screeeeeeeeeech that was constant regardless of wheel position. "That....sounds awful and I need to get it looked at right fucking now!" I thought.

I had roadside assistance to cover my tow, but I knew I'd have to foot the repair bill for whatever was wrong. Was it the brakes? Did I shatter a bearing? Did the CV joint go out?

All day I worried. I had just got back from a mini vacation, where I spent a lot of money on frivolous crap, and here I was looking at probably at least a $300 repair, possibly more, possibly much more, and I had just blown money on crap like a chicken purse. A chicken purse!

It's a purse, shaped like a chicken.

If I had psychic foresight, I would have never blown money on something as frivolous as a chicken purse! 

I mentally prepared a list of plan B's in case the repair came out to over $1k. I have credit cards hiding somewhere in a storage unit I could go fish out. I could cancel an upcoming business trip which would break my coworkers' hearts as it's an excuse for us to go party. But the car repair was most important. I had to find a way to pay for it while kicking myself for wasting so much money.

Finally at 3PM I got the phone call: it was a rock in my rotor. They didn't even charge me for the repair! (Thanks, Chris at Bill Harris! You always treat me good!)  The only expense I ended up incurring was an Uber ride from my work to the shop.

So did I learn anything from this experience? Did I learn about what's important in life, and about being financially prepared? Do I still regret my frivolous recklessness with money?

Um, have you SEEN the chicken purse???

Chicken. Purse.

WHY WOULD I EVER REGRET A CHICKEN PURSE THIS THING IS AMAZING!!!!

PS: I love all my coworkers who freaked out when the tow truck arrived and were all, "KATT! Your car is getting towed! Need us to go beat them up?" I mean, they were willing to go jump a random stranger they thought was taking my ride, no questions asked! That's family right there. I love them!

My dog the anti-emotional support animal

I was recently reading a thread where someone was struggling to find pet friendly housing. Whenever I am in the same situation, someone inevitably suggests "just register your pet as a service/emotional support animal!" This is wrong on multiple levels, makes it difficult for people who legitimately need service animals, and is illegal. You should not fake a service dog or an ESA, people! 

But even for those reasons, there's another reason: my dog is the exact opposite of an emotional support animal.

The face of a shithead

Recently, I ended a year-long relationship and while it was a choice I had thought long and hard about and was the right choice to make, I still needed to have myself a good cry. My dog does not like it when I have a good cry. He gives me a side-eye, gets up...

...and the little shit leaves the room. He left for the bathroom, the room where dreaded baths are given, because he would rather sit there than deal with my drama. This is not unique to this past week's falling out; he was this way during previous breakups, during my divorce, during any time I needed a good ugly cry session.

He's a fuckhead who literally would be the worst emotional support animal.

Giving zero fucks about my feels

Oh, but if he's feeling anxious? You'd better drop whatever you're doing and comfort him!

This morning at 3 AM my fire alarm decided it had a low battery and randomly went off. My dog cannot stand fire alarms. It took him over half an hour of whining and shivering against me after I had thrown the chirping fire alarm outside (because 3 AM is too early to deal with that shit and I didn't have a battery replacement). 

If anyone is getting registered as anything, I should be registered as his emotional support human.

In fact, I designed a shirt designating me as such, because at this point might as well. You can click on links and order one yourself if you want:

Emotional Support Human T-Shirt
by bhskittykatt

Someone said that I should have put "Please Pet" instead since I'm officially single again, but I'm also introverted and don't want people randomly touching me. So is my dog. So this seemed most appropriate.