Cold

Slept badly, and not even the basement respite bed could alleviate it. Woke up at 9, having finally dropped off around 4.30. The "Oh Canada" ringing through Ottawacker Jr.'s morning roll call rousing me from an unpleasant dream about Carrie Johnson and an abattoir. I don't make this shit up.

Spent a day looking after the boy; as I was grumpier than usual, his one-hour nutrition break consisted of a ham sandwich and my reading him the 11th Arthur Ransome. The book was mine as a boy but I had never read it; I think my interest was waning by the time Great Northern came along - and I sense his might be too. Who wants a nice book about birds and boats when school is recommending Captain Underpants?

Went back upstairs and spent  two hours decluttering my desk, parts of which are now visible. 

As I was about to take Ottawacker Jr. for his second break, Mrs. Ottawacker told me she had tracked down a walk-in clinic doing second paediatric doses, so she hauled him off for that.  I gave her the full run-down of concern: "Don't stand outside too long, it's -29 outside"; "Shouldn't we wait till his scheduled appointment? It'll be full of Covid-infected people"; "Are those masks good enough for Omicron..?" In the end, I was sick of hearing my own voice, so I shut up. 

I was about to take a poignant photo of the car driving down the road to its appointment with destiny, when the cat jumped up and distracted me. So this is it for today. Hopefully I shall sleep better tonight.