Thursday, Feb 20.

Day 27. The molecular structure of matter is decided by the chemical bonds between its atoms. Through an electron microscope, cubes appear as ancient monuments, concealing secrets in the recesses of its cubic rectangular prism. This is a grain of salt.
Instead of listening to the 99th COVID video of the day, I opt for a stoic video on Memento Mori, and my anxiety slips away. Memento Mori is the ancient idea of reflecting on our own inevitable death. Time is precious, I won't wring my hands. Instead, I've got to make each moment count. Am I afraid death might keep me from sitting on my couch and binging Netflix for another night? If I'm going to fear death, I should also worry about not living my best life. I slept well, finally.

Kai is living his best life.

I can't escape being informed, so I listen to the news all day while I cook and clean and make notes and write my fantasy book.

I make banana pancakes, and then I find some broken glass and slash open my finger. It bleeds a lot, and my inner mind screams out something absurd, "I wonder if hemophiliacs live 10 years longer on average" while I apply pressure. Finally, it clots, so I don't have to go Rambo with the stitches.

A super spreader in South Korea infects dozens in Daegu, and now a city of 2.5 million looks as quiet as anywhere in China.
Dr. Iwata, a veteran of Ebola and SARS, clarifies the Diamond Princess fiasco, "(It's a) COVID-19 factory...I was so scared." Beaurocrats, not doctors, have been running the quarantine. Workers were eating while wearing contaminated gloves. He left for self-quarantine, while the passengers waltzed into Japan. This is going to affect the Olympics, I think, and by mid-afternoon, Japan is considering postponing or canceling. Finger on the pulse. If we can learn anything, it's the importance of letting experts, not bureaucrats, handle infectious diseases.
I check my teeth in the mirror and wonder when I'll be able to see a dentist. What an unpleasant, high-risk form of punishment I'm craving. Speaking of saying ah, scientists are supporting aerosol transmission through ventilation is possible.
After dinner, a boy calls and asks for help with a big national pride 70-year Chinese speech contest. I correct his grammar and pronunciation, and he's a happy guy.
In the struggle to use technology to fight the disease, we're rushing to give up digital privacy, and, in a rush to get global supply lines going, robots are clearly better suited to work than fragile humans. These are dystopian solutions to human problems.
Most of Chongqing's key leading companies have resumed production, according to the Chongqing Economy and Informatization Commission. I have heard reports that hand sanitizers are springing up all over town.
As China recruits more health care workers to the front line, perks are offered, such as priority entrance for prestigious universities, and if they perish, martyr-status, family benefits, and big pensions. It's a good offer.
I've applied to test the new Cyberpunk 2077 game and might take a job writing for another one. I volunteer some time for my favorite progressive candidate's campaign. These seem like good things to spend my time doing. We need a green new deal more than ever.

I have a song stuck in my head, I can't figure out why.
I believe I can see the future
Cause I repeat the same routine
I think I used to have a purpose
Then again, that might have been a dream. - NIN, Every Day is Exactly the Same