Pandemic Fatigue catches up with a cowardly courageous woman.

My second last roll of tissue rolled and fell into the toilet this morning.

Great.

Now, on top of calculating how much nutrients my body can absorb from sorghum porridge I have to watch how many boxes of toilet paper I use per visit.

I should have paid attention in Tanzania maybe I could have figured that water in a jerrycan hack.

Else, not being a newspaper buyer I have to start thinking about which of my many notebooks have the softer paper.

It's like that time primary school when my two last tissue rolls fell into the bucket of water I was keeping at the bottom side of the bed. 

I went to the assistant matron with the dump toilet papers and told her I was out. Bless her heart because she managed to get me a roll from the ones they kept for the younger children.

I have ran out tights as well. I have basically been doing rounds in tights and many months down 2020 I am now left with one decent pair which I can't really go out in because it's really a man's tights. It has open pockets in front . That's  how I figure it is men's wear. This is really a strange year, it's long since I wore out clothes. Five pairs to be exact, or maybe I didn't notice because when it was normal to roam I'd come across tights wherever and buy, discarding the faded ones. these ones have holes and lost elasticity and can't even be used as rags.

I've started showing up at the salon in my Sunday dresses that I almost look fresh.

Like I just moved to Nairobi from Kamwakwa where I was working at a timber sales or co-owned a printing shop.

Anyway corona will show us.

I have been wondering what's wrong with me.

Now I know I have pandemic fatigue.

I am trying my best to stay safe but  I am becoming complacent I no longer kick and bite when the conductor tells me to songea huyu kuna wenye wanashuka pale mbele.

Move a little, some people are getting off in the next stage.

I am using the 10bob masks even though I know they are one ply.

I don't wipe down everything quite as vigorously as before.

It's  hard to get into bed

It's  hard to get out of bed

Sometimes I feel a sense of dread so strong It feels physical.

I've stayed awake praying

I've stayed awake sobbing

I've despaired

I have called down hell and damnation to several annoying people

I've spent a whole day in bed, waking from one dream to another because, I just couldn't face the day.

 So I spent the night googling depression symptoms.

But.

I've got up 30 days in a month, sometimes 31 and lived.

In the Samurai's garden, there is a quote. 'It takes more courage to live.'

So I guess, in spite of things I am courageous. 

A cowardly courageous woman.