I woke up with an irritated throat. I did my walk and still didn't feel better. I worried that I might have Covid. I took my temperature. It was below normal.
I spoke to my niece Shivani while I walked. I had trouble getting hold of her. She assured me it was nothing personal; it's just that calling people takes too much effort. I have heard that people in isolation are losing their social skills. That seems weird to me. Social skills are the last to be lost in an Alzheimer's patient. How can we lose our social skills after a few months of spending more time at home? I can hear that we have become aware of how much effort it takes just to reach out and say hi. I suggested she speak to either a friend or family member, setting a 15-minute limit. Shivani has tons of good friends. I would be willing to set a timer so we could shut down after fifteen minutes. Shivani can get everyone she knows to do the same.
I had seven boxes of books loaded in the car when I headed to the post office. I was worried about how I was going to unload that many. When I turned down Palani and got in the left-hand lane to make the turn, Yvette was right in front of me. I honked my horn, but she didn't recognize my new car. I fumbled for my phone, wanting to call her to ask for help. The light changed.
I made the left into the shopping center, as did Yvette. Then she made the next left heading to the post office parking lot. A car pulled out of space right in line with the post office door. I expected her to take it, but no, she pulled ahead. I grabbed the spot and then called her. I couldn't see where she went. It was as if she disappeared.
She had pulled into a parking space a little further down—She was out of sight. By the time she got to me, I had already asked a passing woman if she could help me. I figured if she took a box or two, Yvette and I could handle the rest. The woman said, "Wait, I'll get the hand truck." Apparently, the post office makes them available to customers to help them get their packages inside.
Once she brought it out, Yvette and I loaded the hand truck. Then we had problems getting it upright because it was sitting on a hill. Yvette pulled it to the curb and then had trouble getting it up the step. She abandoned it and just carried the packages inside.
She asked me if I was going to use self-service; she was. I didn't know it existed. After thinking about it, I still prefer waiting in line and having a clerk do the work for me. It seems less stressful.
The clerk at the far-left end was available. Wow! What a change! In the past, I have prayed that I wouldn't have to deal with her. She never smiled; her expression was disdain and contempt. She never went out of her way to be helpful. She wore her hair pulled back severely. She wore, still was wearing, false eyelashes that looked okay when you looked her straight in the eye, but she rarely made direct eye contact. With her lowered eyes, those lashes looked like spiders, large spiders. It wasn't a good look.
Today, she gave me a great smile, made direct eye contact, remembered that I was the lady mailing books and more books, and showed an interest when I showed her the pictures I had taken of the library that morning to show someone else how many books were left. While she still had those spiders on her eyes, now I had direct eye contact. She wore her long hair loose. What the hell happened? She either found God, or something very good came into her life. Whatever, I wish her well.
I was going to stop at Kaiser to get my flu shot but had forgotten to take a sweatshirt with me. They keep that place refrigerated. I went directly to Costco to pick up a few items.
When I got home, Scott sent a message to come on down when I was through with my chores. He was still mudding the ceiling before painting. I wondered if the sound problem had been resolved. Scott said no one has been up there. I remembered that Sandor, a big man, walked through when he set up my mesh system. Scott said Yvette and Josh wouldn't have been in their bedroom. I said yes, it was late enough in the evening; they probably would have.
Scott had to point out to me that their bed was in the living room. No, they wouldn't have been in their bedroom that evening at any time. Yikes! This is the first major cognitive glitch I have seen. I have to wonder if this is a sign of things to come. True, I wasn't feeling well today. Age plus additional strain may be the explanation, but it is scary.
After dinner, I watched a fair amount of the final season of The Good Place. I was too tired to watch the whole thing. I went to be early, hoping I would be better tomorrow.
When Sandor was here yesterday, I asked him about his position on socialism. It would be understandable if he was opposed to it, given his family lost everything when communism took over in Cuba, and his young years were spent with food insecurity. I practiced asking the question in a neutral tone. Thank God I did. His answer surprised me. You needed a society where people thought of the greater good for all. He didn't think Americans were capable of that. I think he's right. Here the emphasis is every man for himself. How sad.
The American story is of individualism; you are what you make of yourself. No one else can or should help you unless, of course, it's inherited wealth. I met someone who doesn't believe in charity, no less equal opportunity laws. He says people are starving when their stomachs are distended. He didn't say he would help them then, only that was his definition of hunger. He was a good Christian too. I'm wondering if I should put those words in quotes.
Some people are so afraid of socialism. I'm not quite sure what their fears are. As one friend pointed out, we have public education, the post office, and social security. Socialism makes sure everyone gets survival amounts of material goods in the form of food and shelter, Medicare, and education. I suppose it also puts a cap on how wealthy you can be. It doesn't completely eliminate wealth disparity, only the degree of it.
I met a woman who complained about the taxes she had to pay. She said she worked hard for her $5,000,000 salary she had earned that year. She shouldn't have to pay taxes. What about the poor people who work three jobs to be able to cover rent and foo.? Is she saying that they don't work hard? I knew she could go to work when she wanted to. I knew she took trips went ever she wanted to. I know she had enough time to pursue a master's degree. Some people are happy to make it home alive after completing their three jobs and only have the energy to make it to their beds. This woman was also a devoted Christian. Huh? Could someone please explain this to me?
European countries and Canada right next door offer more government-supported services than our government does. Some people here site complain about medical services. I hear complaints from my economic peers about the medical service in this country too. In some cases, their complaints are different; in some cases, they are the same.
There is a difference between a dictatorship that takes it upon itself to dictate where you can live and what job you can have, takes control over your whole life versus a democratic socialist state. The inclusion of universal health care would still not bring us close to what some European countries offer and require taxes.
I think many people confuse socialism with dictatorship. Socialism is an economic system; a dictatorship is a political system. The countries that combine socialism and totalitarianism are in financial trouble. Those countries with democratic socialism have done a lot to benefit the poor and have a good GDP. Ours is suffering.
Dorothy told me that social mobility has increased in other countries and decreased in ours as the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
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