Getting Sick
Name this film above where this pic came from. I will buy you a beer or a cup of coffee. Once all the social distancing concludes. Jolie played a psychopath a bit too well I might add.
I have been dealing with a Cold (not Corona) all week. I shut down as best I could despite my responsibilities. Prior to that, I had mentioned to a friend online that I had dodged a cold all Winter despite typically catching a perennial Cold each Winter. Figures. I am just starting to not feel so tired. It was the worst week to get sick work-wise in terms of the yearly schedule. Timing was imperfectly perfect.
I knew that the week might go South when I crapped my shorts (I had the runs) on my early Monday morning run which I think was due from eating some Syrian Food at a fundraiser last Saturday night. There's more but I will spare you the details. One of the hosts was sick and I surmise that was the transmission contact. Then I worked out too hard on Sunday. Then the heat was turned off in my office with a vent blowing cold air on my fool head all Monday. Perfect! I have only been complaining about it for 20 years.
I first share this thought from Spurgeon:
There is a time appointed for weakness and sickness, when we will have to glorify God by suffering and not by earnest activity.
I took Wednesday off from work and calling off sick is rare for me. Still managed to work 4 out of 5 days. I suppose sickness is a good reminder that our frames are frail and that we are just passing through this life. The Corona Virus may also remind us that our existence is not as stable as we think it is, that the self and society are vulnerable to disease, decay, and death. That should inculcate us with humility and inoculate us against pride. Beware of those things that sicken the soul.
People going crazy to buy toilet paper shows how thin is the veneer of civilization, toilet paper thin wiping against the excrement and butthole of survival.
I have to admit that I went to the beer distributor on Friday afternoon and bought two cases of beer. Priorities. And I already have about five pound of coffee. Since I hate shopping, I tend to be a stocker of goods in general, macro-shopping every season at Costco with weekly quick visits to the local store for perishables. And I am in mid-phase here with enough food to ride out a month or so. After that, I am screwed.
This has been making the rounds all weekend and it is C.S. Lewis responding to someone who had written him about nuclear war (but it is pertinent to threats in general):
In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. “How are we to live in an atomic age?” I am tempted to reply: “Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.”
“On Living in an Atomic Age” (1948) in Present Concerns: Journalistic Essays
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