This morning I woke up to the news that Boris Johnson was diagnosed positive for COVID-19. I’m not sure what to feel about that, but it was less distressing than the next bit of news. The governor of my state requested a disaster declaration from Washington, but it was denied because she declined to kiss the Orange Emperor’s ass. After midday the latest numbers came in: 801 additional infections and 32 additional deaths. That puts my state, and the city I live in in particular, as one of the greatest epicenters of this pandemic in the United States. Those facts floated in my mind throughout the day as I washed laundry and sorted through decades old junk for useful tools. I often visited my grandparents while doing this, but today my car died in my driveway. Baking soda and water on the battery allowed me to corrode enough rust and get a charge but I think today was the last day I will be able to drive that old car. My grandfather walks everywhere with a cane now. This is the second day he has. He told me today that he was getting tired. Not the kind of tired sleep can fix. Yesterday was his oldest daughter’s 50th birthday, so he really is getting old. My grandmother said that with these latest numbers she is reconsidering taking this seriously now. I really want my grandparents to stay safe. Catching this virus is a painful and unpleasant way to go.