The dead are bushed an' stoned to keep 'em safe below
Rabbit, rabbit! I am having a great deal of difficulty with my state continuing to reopen as our delta cases spike. I was obliged to be inside two buildings for purposes of errands this afternoon and while I appreciated that more masks were in evidence than not, it did not make me feel as safe(r; safe as an absolute has been out of the question for some time now) as it might have even a month ago. I was just about the only person wearing a mask on the street. Somerville is recommending indoor masking, but not requiring it; Massachusetts as a whole has not reinstated the mask order it rescinded in May. We are officially no longer in a state of emergency. Please ignore the rates of community transmission blooming red across the map. It feels a bit like living in that blown-off splinter of reality in Diana Wynne Jones' Witch Week (1982), except I don't think there's much chance of merging into a healthier worldline. As of this week,
spatch has returned to work in person. At least he is mostly interacting with dust.

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The exhibit was almost open air (it was in a long, straight, open space that was open to the outdoors on both ends), and most people were unmasked in it--but almost everyone put a mask on to go into the bathrooms.
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I suppose it's better than the ratio being reversed, but aaaaaargh. I didn't even like being on the Metro in D.C. and it was functionally deserted.
The exhibit was almost open air (it was in a long, straight, open space that was open to the outdoors on both ends), and most people were unmasked in it--but almost everyone put a mask on to go into the bathrooms.
That's really interesting! Intelligent of the museum to commission an effectively open-air exhibit. (I'd still have masked for it.)
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--We decided against a Green Line train that was just as packed as in the before times. We took the next one.