It’s Saturday?

I guess it is. I have to say it doesn’t seem to matter much anymore — It’s astounding, Time is fleeting, Madness takes its toll — since I’m just stuck at home, seeing no one, coming unmoored from everything, but I do have a thought which makes me feel slightly better.

Which would you rather?

A. Have a job that lets you work from home, even if it means you’re in isolation.
B. Be isolated at home without a job.
C. Not be isolated because your boss forces you to work in some mindless service job.
D. Not be isolated because you have an essential job, like health care, that exposes you to a high likelihood of getting COVID-19.
E. Have the disease.

There, that puts it all in perspective. I’m an A. I am so lucky. Which one are you?

Anyway, today my plan is to churn out a video lecture for intro bio — the historical battle between biometricians and saltationists, which was basically resolved by everyone realizing that genetics was so much more complex than Mendel thought, followed by a lot of non-Mendelian examples — and get that ready to post by Monday.

Sunday is going to be spent churning out a video lecture on linkage mapping for genetics. There are always students who get lost on this stuff, so I expect to spend some Zoom time going over it next week. Then I have to finish grading some lab reports.

I am going absolutely nowhere. Spiders were fed the other day, so I’m not going to set foot in the lab this weekend. I have everything I need to live on in my house, so no trips to the store. I might step out onto the deck to my fenced back yard and remind myself what the sun looks like, but otherwise, I am definitely an A.

Let it be known

If someday soon my body is found lying on the floor of my house, it isn’t the coronavirus that killed me, it’s this damned cat. I am her sole obsession. Every day she sits and stares at me, and when I get up for any reason, she follows me. No, “follows” is the wrong word; she anticipates my every footfall and makes sure to place herself exactly where it’s most inconvenient for me. Just going to the bathroom has become an epic journey, where I’m forced to walk at half-speed through the vibrating quanta of Cat. I may have to get a machete so I can hack my way through this Cat Jungle. I know it’s just one cat, but she has the ability to plane-shift and and seems to have mastered the power of simultaneity.

I think so far she’s only toying with me, but if this isolation goes on much longer I know she sees me as a backup food source, and is practicing how she’s going to break my neck. I’m afraid.

If I suddenly drop off the internet and later my body is discovered, tell the police to investigate the cat. She can’t be allowed to get away with murder.

Bampa in the house

One anchor of sanity I still have is that I have a FaceTime call with my wife every night. Or, rather, I call my wife’s phone, which my granddaughter Iliana monopolizes immediately.

Sometimes, she sees me and immediately yells “Momo!”, which is how she pronounces “Elmo”. I have an Elmo puppet and she likes to say hello.

Sometimes, she says “Ca’!”, which means I have to go hunt down the cat. Our cat never obligingly curls up in my lap, she’s always off somewhere else, so I have to wander around the house to find her, and then when she sees me coming with the phone, she runs off to hide. Iliana associates me with a cat, though, so I have to track her down.

And sometimes she just shouts “Bampa!” like she’s happy to see me. Then I’m expected to follow her around as she shows off her toys. Or rather, Mary has to follow her around keeping her in view. I might get one or two sentences with Mary on these calls. That’s OK, we grandparents have a moral duty, and I aim to fulfill it.

Spring Break is over!

I guess that means those lovely days of sitting alone in my home office in my underwear with Radiohead playing on the speakers while I struggle to prepare teaching materials are over, and instead I begin those lovely days of sitting alone in my home office in my underwear with Radiohead playing on the speakers while I struggle to deliver teaching material online.

Maybe I should put on pants to highlight the subtle distinctions here.

Everyone seems to be in need of help right now

We were incredibly lucky — we had our campus job searches at the end of fall term/beginning of spring term, and we signed on two new faculty just before the coronavirus hit the fan. If we hadn’t, we probably would have postponed the searches until next year and left a lot of good people hanging, wondering what next. I can’t imagine the stress of trying to search for a job right now in the middle of this chaos.

Abe at Oceanoxia doesn’t have to imagine it — he and his wife are both smack in the middle employment uncertainty. He does good work. If you’re in a more fortunate position, check him out and do what you can to help.

That’s a bit too on the nose

I’m reading about the news from Italy, and here’s a dramatic scene for you: a line of army trucks hauling away coffins from Bergamo, where the crematoria are overwhelmed by the number of dead they have to deal with. It’s like a scene out of a disaster movie.

Then the mail was delivered here. Look what I got!

The local funeral home wants me to do some “advance planning”. Sorry, guys, bad timing. My plan right now is to have my corpse thrown into a military truck, driven to some remote spot, and flung into a mass grave and covered over by a bulldozer. Won’t cost me a thing!