Sloth, Maybe?

I had a disturbing nightmare where I was back in my old neighborhood of Co-op City.   It was a dark gray overcast day.   I entered what is called a “Tower Building”:   One of three models of building in the development. I got aboard an elevator, and headed for the 34th floor (There is no 34th floor in a tower building in real life).   The elevator stopped at the 37th floor.   Any dweller in an apartment house knows the reflex of stepping out of an elevator, even if it’s the wrong floor.   That is precisely what I did. I ran into a large man with piercing dark eyes.   His muscular arm and hand grabbed me by the wrist.   He asked if I can help him with something. Some instinct told me that he had malicious intent.   I excused myself and stepped back on the elevator before it closed.   The large, dark eyed man followed me onto the elevator.   Then he started to ask personal questions.   Even in the dream, I found myself bodily cri...

  As you can see for the umpteenth time, I registered negative for Covid. I live in a sparsely populated area in Yonkers.   When Covid hit New York, guns blazing, I immediately ensconced myself in my apartment.   I counted my “blessings”… I work from home.   There’s no need for me to go in a densely populated area like the city. As I said above, I work in the middle of nowhere.   Odds are I won’t bump into someone who might be carrying the bug. I learned basic hygiene as far back as nursery school.   I probably learned it even earlier since mom bordered on germophobia in the presence of a newborn babe. Sure and I stocked up on masks and hand cleaner sprays, courtesy of New York State. We had a decent amount of toilet paper, so we wouldn’t wind up wiping our asses with issues of the New York Post. As an aside, what was the BIG DEAL about stockpiling on toilet paper?   There was an airborne virus that attacked the lungs, and we were obsessed with not hav...