Quarantine: Day 3

I got a call from a nice fella named Darren at the Hawaii Covid-19 committee. He asked how we’re doing and whether we understand the rules of stay-at-home. I said, “Well, we stay home, right?” There was a pause and he said, “You’d be surprised how many people don’t get that.” I didn’t even try to explain that we’d spent the past eight months not wanting to be in Tokyo, living out of suitcases in a series of Airbnb’s (details at http://tokyotales2) struggling with the Japanese medical establishment and bureaucracy, desperately missing our kitties and wishing EVERY SINGLE DAY that we could come home.

I told Darren that we’re fine and happy to comply with the rules. I suppose I sounded impossibly upbeat and annoyingly perky. Darren persevered, though, and said we should stay home through June 3. From the 4th, he said, we can do whatever we want. I had to stifle a giggle at that.

Darren, honey, we’re already doing what we want.

Quarantine: Day 1

At long and weary last, we are home. We managed to unpack most of the junk we dragged back with us. I went through all the mail, ending up with three piles: stuff I have to do something about, stuff I will consider doing something about, and credit card applications. The latter was by far the largest.

Now I’m wide awake at 1:30 am. I went to bed at a reasonable time but had a horrible dream. We were back in Tokyo, sharing a shabby apartment with two guys; one had a horse head. A horrific car crash had triggered a second wave of virus outbreak. Sirens wailed outside and when I tried to see what was happening, a tsunami crashed into the building.

A word to the wise: Don’t watch a documentary about the 1348 outbreak of bubonic plague before bed when you’re jet lagged and feeling just a little guilty that quarantine is a pleasure.