I got a glimpse into the future when the mail came. There was a bill for the mandatory testing I was asked to undertake when I returned from Northern Italy sick in late February. The bill was for nearly $600. I said I wouldn’t be paying and the bill person on the other line said they’d have to pursue their money.
This isn’t going to end well, for me or anyone. They’d said they were testing for coronavirus, but later admitted not having tested.
I feel like my cats; running from window to window as the wind tosses the evergreens at the back of our yard around. Their tails are as bushy as the branches they’ve been watching.
It’s exhausting to constantly tamp down fear.
I stopped by the orange hurricane fencing that has been blocking the Bearsville Center site. Not much movement in there but online, they’ve been touting upcoming concert replays on their website… the best of the past 30 years at the theater. The outer buildings have fresh coats of paint. There’s a big billboard up on Route 28 with the bear logo looking good, somehow spruced up too, alongside a cryptic quote from “This Wheel’s On Fire.”
Guess it’s just going to be a cryptic spring. Better than the fiscally embattled summer and fall ahead.
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