I could make the case that this is actually our tenth week of lockdown, although it would be a weak case, destined to be thrown out of court. I had several events that first week, worthy of a retrospective shudder, but I'm in the mood to give everyone a break, including me.

Because never had I shared my personal emotional calendar with everybody else, and no one needs to explain further. Just say bad day or good day, and everybody gets it because we're all experiencing it. Sleep problems, eating problems, maybe drinking problems, who knows? You're all excused.

The greater Seattle area has now reached an infection rate of R1, down from nearly 3 (meaning each of us is now infecting one person, not three; below 1 and Covid-19 is toast). This region is famous for being socially distant anyway (called the Seattle Freeze, polite but antisocial), and we're ornery and lean libertarian at times but we tend to trust our leaders at the moment. Seattle mayor Jenny Durkan is getting high marks; Gov. Inslee is generally OK, although he gets the treatment because he's the guy making the hard decisions. Some of them are bound to be wrong, but generally things are looking up.

Here? It's all good, actually. My wife is happy, in fact, teaching from home, and I'm happy to have her. She's in summer mode, finding things to do when she's not working, setting up her space and putting new book shelves together, her happy place. She eats what I prepare or else makes do with sandwiches and salads, and she tolerates my groping in a good-natured way.

I grope only because I care, you understand. I'm less horndog and more hungry for tactile connections, and she lets me caress her back for a few seconds before the sound of her eyes rolling fills the air and I stop. All good, as I said.

None of this is good, obviously. I'm just cheerful today. It's a good day, that's all. Yesterday not so much, which happens.

Church has been my salvation (heh. But true). It was closed nine weeks ago today, in fact, mostly for fear of the most vulnerable among us feeling compelled to attend. There was talk of livestreaming something, and I've watched a lot of churches do this, although I'm happy we went the direction we did. For one thing, it gave me something to do.

Relatively few people regularly go to church in this country anymore; the last statistic I found says 35% of us. It's a no-brainer that faith communities serve as vectors in this pandemic, and I'm not surprised that it's become a source of social conflict and resistance to the rules.

This is baffling behavior to my little community, of course. We cherish our times together, more so now, but it's just a building. We suffer in this loneliness and isolation as anyone else, but we all have brains and it just feels ungrateful not to use them.

So we make prepared videos to worship virtually, and thus I have a job, being a hobbyist and dabbler in the dark arts of video editing. This is also tolerated, as I flatten my personal learning curve and occasionally go too far (was that animated shepherd too much? Maybe). I feel useful, a little, and that's new and fun.

I'm bored. Sleep is disrupted, hair is long, concentration is totally screwed, I eat like an insane person (either too much or too little), and I'm putting off chores because tomorrow is going to be just like today.

But today is sunny and warm, and the grass is always going to grow, regardless of my inattention. I have things to do, and a place to do them. A good day can make all the difference, and I'm just getting started.

Wear a mask.