I went and played golf with a couple coworkers on Friday (it's an acceptable covid activity). The idea was to get a practice round of golf in before our company "tournament" with the hopes of not getting last place for the 6th year in a row.*
The place we played is up on Columbia boulevard so naturally I had to drive past my old house. It's weird because it still appears like no one is living there. After all these years (about 20 to be specific) it is strange that I am still yet to see anyone actually living in the house. People just keep buying it and not doing anything with it. It's also kind of sad to think that I may have been the last child to grow up in that house. Does that mean that someday I will be the one stuck haunting it? I'm not really sure about the rules for haunted houses but I hope it doesn't come down to the last person to live there before it became abandoned.
Currently reading the second book in the "southern reach" trilogy. It is some delightfully creepy sci fi about a weird part of the Florida panhandle that has somehow become even weirder than I have to assume the panhandle already is.
I had a patient tell me the other day that he was anxious and depressed by everything that is going on in the world. I told him that we are all feeling that way to a certain extent and it is totally rational to be worried about what is going to happen next on a national, global and even personal level. He thanked me and said he was worried because he thought it was just him. I thought that was kind of funny, also sad though. I guess he doesn't have someone to regularly ask "hey are you seeing this shit?". I think he was relieved to have someone tell him "yeah, we are all seeing this shit and it's pretty scary." Of course I didn't use those words.
The baby moved to a new daycare today, what a trip. It's crazy how attached we became to the caretakers at the last daycare despite it only being two months and us literally only seeing pictures of the staff watching the baby (we only spoke face to face maybe 2 or 3 times). I guess we are projecting how much we care about the baby onto other people, we are assuming that everyone thinks she is the greatest thing to come along in forever.
We took the baby to the beach for her first two nights away from home. I think it was harder on Melissa than on the baby. She did wake up crying the first night around 11 PM and cried for maybe 1.5 hours. I think it was because when we put her down it was light and by the time she woke up it was dark and a strange place. By night two she was sleeping fine. I also made the mistake of trying to take her "camping" which was really just setting up her pack and play in a tent in the back yard. I slept next to her in a cot. Around 1 AM the family of raccoons that tour the neighborhood every few weeks showed up. I could hear them in the garden. Instinctively, I slapped the wall of the tent to scare them off. Of course, this frightened the baby and she spent the next 2 hours crying. I brought her in after about the first 30 seconds of crying. The remainder of the crying spell took place in her crib in her room. The beach trip and attempted camping night sort of led to a domino effect and ongoing cycle of sleep and lactation stress, which, like the 50,000 other things going on in the world right now are almost completely out of my hands.
*We didn't get last place. In reality, my contribution was probably not a big part of that but I'll take it.