#the monotony of pandemic times has been broken

[michyeosseo]

2022 creator wrap

favorite works

bringing back a love thyself tag thing-y from two years ago to fill up an otherwise empty yearend queue

january - all i ever wanted was a sister as far as i could remember. therefore, the way my brain has been wired... it’s no surprise to combine the jazzy vocals of luisa (from encanto) with chungmuro’s finest showing of sisterhood in recent memory. 

february - hongxue, my beloved. anita yuen hitting a corporate prick in the head, in cheongsam, is ~magnificent~ let’s not mince words. to my delight, i discovered she’s also been taking on roles checking the kissing women requirement all the way back to the early ‘90s. good for her.

march -  an entry for kww featuring kang malgeum. have you ever been personally changed by the nation’s unni and her ghost smile or are you normal?

april - moran × oksun. i even assigned the invu album to their dynamic only to be immeasurably disappointed.

may/june - here’s the latest in the never-ending law of the lady shoutouts. i was provided, bombarded even, with so much jiejie crush material. (warning: wetv subtitles were just a grade above machine translation.) xu jie assuming the role of chen ran’s baby daddy – putting their “partnership” full circle – i dunno where to begin to thank cdramas for them.

july - it is Not Perfect nor was it archived here but ‘twas my humble offering for queen moon’s birthday [ofc it was going to be a sehwa fancam to the kpop milf anthem wooah hip].

august - do mob bosses gently ask to have dinners with their indentured servants? as per the miniature hell in my head, chairwoman kang insook certainly seems convinced that’s how it works with her secretary kim yoonjae. and if my takeaway from that terrible movie is a positive reception of the dismembered wrist marked with her tattoo and totes not leaving her for dead, so be it.

december - meet jin hwayoung, the youngest daughter of a conglomerate. fashionista, my meow meow, achieved having a purse-carrying malewife. (the last bit representing actual affection is very notable, considering everyone else in show-window marriages.) dad, ily, but we both know why i picked this drama up. long after the faux chaebol revenge fades from the limelight, the general public will continue to owe kim shinrok for refusing her talent to be boxed as merely garnish/‘only daughter amongst many sons’ and for her commitment to having maximum fun on set for us. give her a worthy slice-of-life next.

if you’ve read up to this point, i just want to express my sincere thanks for following me/my crazed hyperfixations ♡ 

sideblog stuff under the cut

special mention

this is the (half-)year i kinda leaned into vidding. with encouragement from dear friends, here are some archived because twtr video compression is absolute dogshit fruits of those late nights. i wanna try to do more next year, maybe revisit old ideas, while not abandoning my main bread and butter, gifs. here’s to hoping the quality of the two modes of output will be honed closer.

feeling each other’s ribs that are protruding

ok i lied, i’m not a ‘little bit’ in love with gwendoline christie; i want to sell my soul to her

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes Chapter 2

Note: First full length part. I’m still looking for a beta reader if anyone is interested. No Daryl this part, but next part has his POV included. He and Pheonyx will meet in the part afterwards. 

If you want to be added to a taglist, leave a comment or message me

CW/TW: Anxiety, beginnings of anxiety attack, hunting, allusions to past trauma

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics & @omiyours

Banner by: @liminal-creations​ 

Prologue Part 1 Next

   The world became very repetitious once the dead began to rise. Sure, there was always the risk of being bitten or attacked by hordes of the undead. But the motions of living continued to be the same every day. Find food, find water, find shelter, avoid the dead, rinse, repeat. Pheonyx didn’t have to worry about shelter or water, being on the Greene farm, but the monotony was still there. Wake up, hunt, tend to the animals and crops, train Kismet, eat dinner, sneak off to kill the shadows in the woods, sleep. It’d been that way for almost two months.

   Everything changed the day Rick Grimes showed up on their property: a shot boy in his arms and eyes full of pleading hope. 

*66 days  post outbreak*

  Pheonyx knocked his arrow, breathing slowly and focusing on his target: a fat, ball of brown fur that was currently chewing on an acorn. The woods around him were loud with the whistling of the breeze and the tweeting birds. He drowned it all out though, the only thing on his mind was hitting the small animal. Fingers releasing, fletching brushing his cheek, the string vibrated against his fingertips,  his arrow flew true and hit the squirrel between the eyes. When the squirrel fell from its spot in the tree, he felt the thump of a bony tail against his leg and he looked down. Kismet looked up at him with a stereotypical Bully smile, tapping his toes in excitement. Despite the death and carnage that had happened in the past couple of months, the dog still had the power to make the young man smile.

   “Go get it, Kizzie.”

   The dog took off, practically tripping over his own feet to grab the small rodent. Another smirk lifted Pheonyx’s lips. His pup was anything but graceful when he was excited. Despite this, he was a natural when it came to hunting and scent tracking. The hound in his blood was very prominent. Kismet was eager to please and excitable, but he also was serious when given a job. So when the need to hunt for food became a necessity, Pheonyx began training the dog to retrieve and follow scents. He waited patiently for the animal. Without thinking, his hand pressed to his, now flat, chest through the thin flannel shirt he wore. It was still a shock sometimes when his hand met smooth muscle instead of mounds of dysphoria-inducing flesh. The area was still a mixture of sensitive and numb. The scars were healing nicely, as were the nipple grafts. Both tingled most of the time, but still didn’t have much sensation when it came to touch. He’d managed to get his surgery done one week before the world ended. At least now he didn’t have to worry about paying back the credit card he used to fund the surgery. Technically, he got a 10k surgery for free. That was probably the only upside to the deadly global pandemic.

   A blur of dappled fur trampled the forest floor, only stopping to grab up the small corpse with the arrow sticking out of it. Kismet gave it a small shake and trotted back to his owner.

   He took the animal and removed the arrow from its head. Luckily, Kismet hadn’t broken the arrow this time. They were still working on gentle handling when it came to Pheonyx’s precious supply of arrows. He could always make more, but it was a bitch and half to do.

   A gunshot sounded through the air while he was tying the animal alongside his other catches on his waist.

   Otis must have found the deer he was tracking, Pheonyx thought.

   While he didn’t approve of the older man using a loud rifle to hunt, the farm was running low on protein options and Otis had offered to go find some bigger game. Pheonyx’s catches of squirrels, raccoons, and opossums only went so far when trying to feed 7 people. Especially since his stepfather kept sacrificing their chickens to the dead that were in the family barn.

   The thought of what, who, was in the barn made his heart clench. His mother and his brother were currently rotting away next to their neighbors. Hershel believed that a cure was going to come. That the government or some research facility would come out with some kind of medicine that would right the world. But Pheonyx knew better. He was there when his brother died. He saw him stop breathing. Saw him open his eyes, the bright green that used to be was replaced by milky white, and launch at their mother. Pheonyx watched his brother tear into their mother’s arm, sentencing her to the same fate. A day later, he held onto his mom as she died. His fingers on her pulse, the rhythm disappearing under his fingers before she turned, just like Shawn had. They were dead. Walking and ravenous, but still dead. Since then, Hershel and Otis had been taking the Shadows they found and putting them in the barn. His stepfather was stubborn and refused to believe that these people were dead. 

   Everyone except for Pheonyx was in denial. He could tell Maggie was losing her faith though. Every trip into town, every encounter with the shadows, was breaking her resolve. She still held out hope though that everything would be okay again. He couldn’t though. He knew this world. He’d seen the darkest parts of it and, unfortunately, he knew that bad things rarely got better. They just continued to fester and bleed.

   Which was why Pheonyx had to be the strong one and protect the farm. Every night, he went into the woods and cleared any dead that crossed his path. He’d wait until everyone was asleep then slip out with his primary weapon, a Civil War era Navy cutlass sword, that he nicked from the antique store in town. It was light weight and more aerodynamic than a machete. And the guard allowed him to push the dead away without worrying about his fingers being bitten. He’s spent the better part of a week tanning squirrel hides and sewing the leather to create a sheath to holster the sword at his hip.  Sleep was a rarity now, as he walked through the farmhouse door just before dawn most days. Giving him just enough time to change out of his bloody clothes and slip into the shower to clean the gore off of his tanned skin.

   Pheonyx was brought out of his thoughts as Kismet nosed at the squirrels hanging off his waist. He pushed the pup’s wide snout away from the corpses.

   “You’ll get your fair share. Don’t worry. We should probably head back. If Otis caught that deer, this should be enough to last us for the week.”

    The two began making the lengthy trek through the woods. These woods were second nature to Pheonyx, so finding the way back was easy.  Kismet stopped to pee on several trees, making the trip longer than it usually was. Before long, they were stepping out into the cleared land near the farmhouse. In the distance, He could see Maggie sitting on the front porch with a book in her lap. He and the dog jogged up to the house, grass crunching under their feet. As they got closer, Kismet sped up upon seeing one of his favorite people.

   “Incoming!”, Pheonyx yelled in warning.

    Maggie had only a second before the thick-muscled dog was running up the steps and launching himself into her lap. The dog was easily 70 lbs of muscle, but he still thought he was a lap dog. She was slightly shocked but she dropped her book to begin scrubbing the wiggly boy.

   “How is my favorite boy?”, she cooed. Kismet licked her face happily and his tail thumped on her leg.

   Pheonyx caught up and stepped up onto the porch next to them. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and removed his bow and quiver from over his shoulder. He placed them gently against the side of the house. “I feel like I should be offended at that. I’ve known you for nearly 21 years and this mutt is your favorite?”

   Maggie feigned shock and covered the dog’s ears, “Don’t talk about my boy that way, Pheonyx Archer Greene. I’ll let you do your own washin’ from now on.”

   Chuckling, he reached out and ruffled his sister’s short brown hair. “You know I don’t mean it. He’s my boy too. Really glad I decided to bring him along instead of boarding him. Don’t know what I would do without his goofy ass.”

   Kismet’s ears perked and he stared out into the distance. The two Greene siblings turned to look out into the field, expecting to see Otis with a deer slung over shoulders, but were met with the sight of a man in a Sheriff’s uniform running towards the house. He was carrying a kid in his arms, blood coating the khaki colored shirt he wore.

   Maggie picked up the binoculars from the table beside her and used them to get a better look. Pheonyx grabbed Kismet’s collar and pulled him off his sister’s lap.

   “Kismet, stay.” The pup whined but laid down on the porch, his butt wiggling at the prospect of a new friend approaching the house. He was much more trusting than Pheonyx would have liked.

   His sister called out for Hershel, “DAD!”

   Pheonyx grabbed the Glock 19 from the holster at his right hip, his sword being on the left. He deftly untied the squirrels from his hip, letting them fall to the porch next to his bow and quiver. Flipping the safety and making sure a round was chambered, he jogged to meet the man halfway.

   “Was he bit?”, he asked, pointing the gun at the man. Unlike his family, Nyx knew that there were bad people in this world. As much as he wanted to help the pale, bleeding child in the man’s arms, he also had a family to protect. Whether the child was bit or the man had bad intentions, he couldn’t be sure. So he needed to be cautious.

   The Sheriff was panting, sweat dripping down his face. “Shot. By your man. He said to find Hershel. Is that you? Please. Help me. Help my boy.”

   The look of pure desperation in his sky blue eyes, had Pheonyx lowering, putting the safety back on, and holstering his weapon. He figured if he knew Otis’s name, this probably wasn't a trap.

   “Not me. My step dad.”, Pheonyx heard the loud screen door behind him and the sound of his stepfather’s hurried steps approaching. “Come on, let’s get him inside.”

   Before Hershel could ask, he filled him in, “He’s been shot. Said it was Otis, and that he told him to bring the boy here.”

   Hershel nodded and led the sheriff into the house, past the rest of his family that had gathered outside at the commotion. The vet began to fire off commands, asking Patricia to get his kit and ordering Maggie to get painkillers, coagulates, alcohol and clean linens. Pheonyx ushered Beth and Jimmy away from the guest room off the main living area.

   “I need you guys to go out front. Otis should be back soon too. Command Kismet to be on guard. He’s gonna growl if someone comes up but he won’t attack until you tell him to. Wait for Otis, the less people in here the better. Jimmy, take my gun,” he pulled the gun from his holster and handed it to the teen, “Remember what we talked about?”

   Jimmy nodded, checking the safety and checking the magazine for rounds. While Hershel was against gun use on the farm, Pheonyx refused to walk around without one. It had been the source of many arguments between them. He had taken Jimmy, Beth, and Maggie out for lessons shortly after the outbreak began. Guns were a last resort for the dead, but if the Sheriff had a group that wanted to attack them, a gun was more threatening to humans. Jimmy and Maggie were naturals with firearms but Beth was still hesitant and very innocent. She believed, wholeheartedly, that the shadows could be cured, like their father did. She also only saw the best in people. The idea that someone would try to hurt the family was something she refused to believe. Which was why Pheonyx gave the gun to Jimmy. The boy had only been dating Beth for a few months, but he was visibly head over heels for her. Pheonyx knew he would protect his little sister no matter what.  

   Beth looked hesitant but pulled Jimmy out to the front porch. Nyx rolled his sleeves up and moved into the guest room, where Maggie and Patricia had returned with the items Hershel asked for.

   “Is-Is he alive?”, the Sheriff asked desperately, his voice shaking with emotion. Sweat was dripping down his pale face, and he was shaking. Shock, Pheonyx thought. He honestly didn’t look much better than the injured boy on the bed. Both had a deathly pallor to their already pale skin.

   Hershel unbuckled the belt that was used as a tourniquet from around the boy’s chest, “Pillowcase. Quickly.”

   The man was still standing in shock so Pheonyx jumped into the fray. He grabbed one of the pristine white pillows from the bed and pulled the case off of it. Folding the pillowcase into a thick pad, he pressed the cloth against the boy’s stomach. Warmth from his blood soaked into Pheonyx’s hands. This wasn’t the first gunshot he’d helped treat. The others had been farm animals but the same principles applied.  His stepfather pulled out his stethoscope and began to check for a pulse.

   “I’ve got a heartbeat. It’s faint.”

   The sheriff let out a small breath of relief but his body still radiated tension and despair. Maggie and Patricia were moving at the end of the bed, pulling out all the tools Hershel would need to treat the boy. The older woman moved to Pheonyx’s side of the bed, “I got it, Nyx. We need room, take him please”, she inclined her head towards the boy’s father. Pheonyx nodded and moved around the bed until he was standing next to the man.

   “Hey, we need to give them some room. What’s your name?”, he placed his hand gently on the man's arm. There was a fog over the man’s blue eyes and it took him a moment to respond.

   “R-Rick. I’m-I’m Rick.”, he stuttered and nodded to himself, as if assuring himself that that was really his name. At that moment, Pheonyx was surprised that he could even answer that.

   He kept his tone calm, as if he were talking to a scared animal. “Rick, Hershel is a great doctor. He’s going to do everything he can for your boy. But we need to give them space.” He squeezed Rick’s arm and gently steered him out of the room. They both watched as Maggie began to set up an IV for the boy.

   “Move!”, an unfamiliar voice floated in from the side window. Rick and he looked out and saw two men running towards the house. The large frame of Otis was struggling to keep up with a taller man with curly black hair and an impressive amount of muscle. Pheonyx’s eyes were locked on the shotgun in his hands. The man didn’t have it pointed at Otis or the house, but it still set him on edge.

   Pheonyx and Rick both walked out the front door. The sheriff was still in a daze, but Pheonyx walked with purpose. Outside, Beth and Jimmy were standing with Kismet growling at their side. The teen boy had the gun in his hands, finger off the trigger like he had been taught.

   “Jimmy, give me the gun. Take Beth upstairs, please. Kismet, stand down.”

   Jimmy glanced at Pheonyx out of the corner of his eye, hesitant to let up his stance, but he still handed the gun over to the older man. The boy led Beth into the house, the porch door slamming shut behind them. Kismet grumbled but stopped growling at the approaching men. He trotted over to his owner, leaning against his side with his tail wagging. Pheonyx pulled out a bit of squirrel jerky from his pocket and handed it to the dog, rewarding him for standing guard. Otis and the unknown man had made it to the porch by then. Pheonyx guided Otis inside, Kismet on their heels, wanting to give Rick a moment with the other man. He was still leery of the newcomer, but he also knew that they wouldn’t try anything while the boy was being tended to by his stepfather.

   “He’s alive? Is he still alive?”, Otis asked, his voice cracking.

   Pheonyx nodded, “Yeah. Hershel is working on him now. What happened, Otis?”

    The older man was on the brink of tears, “I should have listened to you. Shouldn’t have used the gun…”, He sniffled and wiped the sleeve of his army green shirt over his eyes. Otis was a large man. Tall and wide set. The appearance made him look more gruff than he truly was. He was a soft man at heart.

   Pheonyx pulled him in for a hug, “It’s not your fault, Otis. I know you would never shoot a kid intentionally.” They separated and Otis nodded. He took a deep breath and pulled himself together. The younger man truly didn’t blame Otis. When they discussed the use of firearms, Pheonyx’s only thoughts had been on the noise. Shadows were drawn by sound and nothing was louder than a rifle going off in the middle of the woods. “Patricia and Maggie are helping Hershel. He might want to ask you some questions about what happened though.”

   Rick and the other man walked in. The sheriff was still in shock, walking as if in a cloud. The other man was holding himself together well. But his posture was stiff with fear and probably a bit of suspicion. Unfortunately, the end of the world left everyone with a plethora of the latter. You can’t trust anyone, no matter how good their intentions seem. Pheonyx had learned that earlier than most. (Heck, he had the damn phrase “The road to hell is paved with good intentions”, tattooed on his ribs. One of many tattoos that graced his skin). Maybe that distrust was what aided him in surviving this long.

   Kismet jumped up on the couch right near Otis and Pheonyx, no doubt looking for a comfortable spot to nap since he was relieved of his 10 minutes of guard duty. Pheonyx gave him a head pat and another piece of jerky from his pocket. Normally by now, the dog would be chowing down on the innards of their morning hunt, but with the chaos he was reluctant to leave his family alone with the strangers. While he was 90% certain these men wouldn’t try anything while the boy was being helped, he couldn’t let his guard down. The two strangers walked into the room where Hershel was working on the boy, and Pheonyx walked with Otis to stand in the doorway.

   Hershel was keeping pressure on the boy’s wound while Maggie held up the IV attached to his small arm.

   “You know his blood type?”, the old man asked gruffly.

   Rick nodded, “A-positive. Same as mine.”

   There was a flicker of relief that flashed through Hershel’s eyes. “That’s fortunate. Don’t wander far. I’m gonna need you.”

   Pheonyx took a small step forward towards the boy’s right side, arms crossed over his chest. It was instinctual. A way of creating a barricade without hiding behind a physical barrier.  “Hershel, I’m O negative. Might be better to draw from me first if he needs blood.”, he glanced at the two men on the other side of the bed and took in their haggard appearances. It was more than shock and stress from the situation. Their faces were lean from lack of food, and they radiated a bone-tiredness that one could only acquire after falling on hard times. “No offense but you guys look like you haven’t eaten a good meal in a while and you’re both in shock. Taking blood could put you right next to him in that bed, Rick.” He may have been wary of the strangers, but it was an injured boy. Not offering to lower his guard and donate blood was something he wasn’t willing to do.

   Rick muttered his thanks, wiping at tears that spilled over his lower lids. The other man inclined his head in a respectful nod. Hershel grunted in agreement. 

   “He’s right. We’ll take yours, Rick, as a last resort. Otis, what happened?”

   Otis hadn’t stopped looking at the pale boy since they entered the room and he didn’t move his eyes even as he spoke, “I was tracking a buck. Bullet went through it”, his voice wavered and cracked. “Went clean through.” He made his way around the bed to Patricia, seeking comfort from his wife.

    “The deer slowed the bullet down, which certainly saved his life, but it did not go through clean. It broke up into pieces. If I can get the bullet fragments out…”, Hershel trailed off while lifting the pillowcase from the boy's wound and looking into the bleeding hole.

   Rick’s breathing increased a bit and the fog in his eyes cleared a little. “Lori doesn’t know. My wife doesn’t know–”, a sob wracked his body and the other man placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “My wife doesn’t know.”

   Hershel glanced at Pheonyx and inclined his head at the men. Wordlessly telling him to get them out of the room. He followed his stepfather’s silent command. “Why don’t you guys come with me into the living room? Hershel needs room to work.”, they both looked at him reluctant to leave the boy’s side. “We can talk about how to get word to your wife. One of us can probably ride out and find her but I’ll need you to pinpoint where she is on a map.”

   This seemed to motivate the Sheriff and he nodded. They both followed Pheonyx into the living room farthest from the guest room and settled onto the couch. Kismet was still sleeping in the other room, snoring away and unaware of the tension occurring around him. There was a small writing desk in the corner of the room where they kept the majority of the local maps, some were hung up in the stables where Pheonyx used them for planning runs and plotting shadow trap locations. He went and pulled out one of the simpler maps, one that showed roads but not altitude. Grabbing a marker, he quickly starred the area where the farm was and marked the way which Rick had come from. “I’ve marked where the farm is on this map. The arrow is the direction you guys came from to get here. Try and mark where you think your wife is at. Maggie knows these woods about as good as me. So, if you can mark a general area where she might be, she should be able to catch up to her.”

   The other man took the map and marker, even though Pheonyx had held it towards Rick. The man was still dazed though.

   “I’m gonna grab you both some water.”

   Pheonyx took a little bit of time walking to the kitchen. He was antsy. Strangers were a trigger for him. Strange men especially. The commotion of the injured boy had had his mind occupied and his anxiety had been diminished. But now that he was alone in the open kitchen, those nerves flared. Six years and his demons still held a grip on his heart. His hands shook as he opened the fridge and took out three water bottles. Setting them on the counter, he breathed deeply and opened one of the bottles. Taking tiny sips, he felt his body begin to settle down.

   Gotta be strong for them. Beth, Maggie, Hershel, Otis, Patricia, Jimmy, He repeated the names three times before his heart reached a normal pace.

   Pheonyx left his bottle on the counter, grabbing the other two bottles, and walked back into the living room. He could hear Rick and the other man talking.

   “ A little girl goes missing… You look for her. Plain and simple.”, Rick said, his voice determined.

   A little girl was missing? Before Pheonyx could ask any questions, the door to the guest room opened and Maggie stepped out. She glanced around and caught her brother’s eyes. “Pheonyx! He needs blood.”

   He tossed the bottles of water onto the couch next to the men and hurried after his sister into the room. The pained cries of the boy reached his ears, breaking his heart. It was like a time machine sucked him back to the past. The noises were reminiscent of the sounds he made on many occasions as a small boy. The scars on his back burned, almost as if the lashes were being whipped into his skin for a second time. Determination filled him, an internal promise to himself that this boy would live. No matter what. He stripped off his flannel shirt, letting the clothing item fall to the ground, leaving himself only in his gray wife beater. Patricia grabbed his arm and began to sterilize the ditch of his arm. 

   He felt eyes on him, and he caught the stare of the strange man. It was a look that Pheonyx was very familiar with. One of contemplation, confusion, and a slight bit of disgust. More than likely, the man was trying to figure out “what” the tattooed man was. Was he a feminine framed guy? A trans man? Or a butch woman? He had a feeling that the strange man wouldn’t take kindly to him being any of those. The ability to pick out transphobes and homophobes had become a sixth sense of his. And this man was setting off every one of his warning bells. Trying not to think of it, Pheonyx averted  his eyes to the boy, his brain not comprehending the frantic talking around him. He watched as the unknown man stepped forward and held the flailing boy down, allowing Hershel to dig into the wound for one of the fragments. The boy's screams rang in his ears, blocking out the feeling of the needle entering his vein.

   “YOU’RE KILLING HIM!”, Rick screamed, tears running down his face. He moved to try to push Hershel away but Pheonyx reached out and grabbed his clammy hand with the arm that Patricia wasn’t working on.

   “Don’t, Rick. He’s trying to get the shrapnel out. We don’t have any sedatives so he’s feeling everything right now. But Hershel has to do this.”

   He squeezed the man’s hand, trying to offer him some kind of comfort, before pushing him back gently.

   The boy’s cries stopped suddenly and the air in the room chilled, everyone’s hearts skipping in fear. The man holding him down pulled away, his face paling and he stuttered while looking at Hershel for reassurance.

   The older man spoke softly but firmly, “He just passed out.”

   He pulled the forceps out of the boy’s wound, the bloody instrument holding a piece of bullet in its metallic grip.

   “One down. Five to go.”, Hershel muttered.

Prologue Part 1 Next

[mymedlife]

Guys, the pandemic has broken me. Every time we seem to be making any progress I feel like we get set back again.

Sorry for the long rant ahead, but I feel like I need to get it out of my head.

Back in the beginning, last March or so, when the state I'm living in shut down, I felt like I could do it. Daycare shut down for almost 3 months to prevent spread.

My husband's job changed his hours to 10a to 8p since everyone was working remotely so they could all be working on the same time zone.

My cofellows were generous enough to switch shifts so I could work all nights and weekends and watch my kiddo during the day. Which kind of sucked, because she doesn't play independently for very long, o was tired, hubby wanted it quiet, and everything was closed so there wasn't anywhere to go to break up the monotony.

Work was filled with frequent changes around what protective equipment we have and what is required to be worn where. I got fitted for 3 different N95s because we kept running out, despite having to check them out and have them sterilized between uses.

I had frequent discussions about how COVID is real with families who refused testing. Parents lied about their symptoms to be allowed into the hospital with their kids, including one who collapsed mid visit due to respiratory failure. Several people ended up having to quarantine because they weren't wearing their N95s during the resuscitation as it was unexpected (at the time we were only wearing N95s during aerosolizing procedures including bagging). This lead to a new rule on not stopping in to help until you have the proper equipment on (which makes sense, but but is so hard).

Early on I spent some time volunteering for the COVID hotline for my state. Most of the questions I got were people upset that things were closing. There were very few health calls.

My aunt died. My sister, a psychologist, argued with her boss she should get a raise for being a frontline worker. My other sister, who is immunocompromised, was mad that all her friends continued to party guilt free and we kept telling her to stay home. My husband began to enjoy his new schedule to the point that he would stay up until 3am playing games after work (the kid was asleep and I was working) and sleep until he had to work at 10 am. My friends talked about their new lock down hobbies, including my co fellow who spent her time creating a new lecture series for the residents. I felt like I was trending water, I started getting behind on fellowship things and I was so tired. My kiddo was happy that I was spending more time with her, and it all was temporary, right?

Eventually things started opening up again. Daycare returned. Two days later my husband was fired. Thankfully he found a job within a few months, but during that time was quick to anger and his staying up all night playing games and sleeping most of the day got worse. He dismissed anything I had to say about it and frequently promised to sleep earlier, later saying he had to stay up because the kid had a nightmare that I slept through.

During this time, many of my pediatrician friends were called to see adults due to high patient volumes and doctor shortages. Luckily I only had to see kids, but there was still a lot of mystery surrounding symptoms and the discovery of the multi system inflammatory syndrome.

My kiddo got sent home a few times from daycare for vague symptoms that necessitated a COVID test, and at one point she was at home with me for 2 weeks due to a COVID positive exposure in class. My husband's job was new so he couldn't take off time to help. At some point things shifted so I was now doing all the daycare pickup and drop-off as well as all the bedtimes (unless I was physically at work).

Following Breonna Taylor and George Floyd there were large scale protests around the downtown area, where my hospital is located. I wholeheartedly support the movement, but someone told my kid it was dangerous to go downtown, and she became fearful of me going to work. This combined with the break in at our home lead to sleep refusal. Something I had to help he with, leading to bedtime taking hours, because my husband would yell at her. Most nights I was too tired after getting her to bed to do much, which lead to more work piling up.

Job hunting was not as fun as I had hoped it would had been. I had one in person interview, everything else was virtual. Thinking about working at a place I've never seen was terrifying.

Many places simply ghosted me. Lots weren't hiring. A few went on a hiring freeze after my interview.

Every interview asked what hobby I developed during lockdown. I admittedly could have answered this question better, and explained that I survived the lockdown with a toddler and that was an accomplishment.

My home institution decided to go with my co fellow over me. When I asked my mentor why she said they felt she had more to contribute to medical education than I do. I'm convinced that in part this has to do with all the lectures she wrote during lockdown.

I was able to get a job, but it's at a smaller community ED where we have a few beds in an adult ED. I mentioned to my associated program director I was a little disappointed, and suddenly everyone is telling me to be thankful for what I have.

I can be thankful and disappointed at the same time.

I think the biggest thing is a fear that if I hate this job I wont ever be able to find another one.

I also kind of resent my kid and husband, if I had more support or time to focus on fellowship things may have been different.

But life goes on. The vaccine was created, things opened up, and now those who aren't vaccinated can stop masking.

The my body my choice people who previously refused to mask are pleased, and now there are barely any masks when I go out (despite a not great vaccination rate in my area).

My kid is 3 and cant get the vaccine, so we still wear them. She loves to whine about how the others don't wear their masks. "It's not fair."

No, it really isn't.

Masks are still required in the hospital, which parents complain about daily. Recently every time I recommend a COVID test it has been refused. The pandemic is over. Kids can't get COVID. And other nonsense.

Kids as young as 12 can get vaccinated. However there is real concern about post vaccine myocarditis. Now everyone who comes in with chest pain wants to complain, even if they are unvaccinated.

Things have been stressful, and my kid is picking up on that. She still has trouble sleeping and has started having tantrums. We recently had a meeting with daycare and they want us to have seen by psych to get her evaluated.

I've found that I've lost interest in most of my hobbies, not that I have a lot of time for them. Fellowship finished and I have the next two weeks off before starting my new job. I was planning on spending it sleeping, cleaning the house, getting out the baby stuff as we are expecting a new little one in a couple of months, and rediscovering my hobbies.

Today I had an awful migraine. I cant take the meds I usually take because of the pregnancy, and my OB wont prescribe anything because he is worried about masking signs of preeclampsia. My husband refused to get up to watch the kid because he was tired, so I pushed through until he was ready to get up.

I lay down to try to get a nap and I get a call that there has been a case of COVID at daycare, and they will be closing for 2 weeks. They will open up the day I start my new job.

And this my friends is what has broken me.

I was so looking forward to finally have time for self care, and now I get to play stay at home mom again with my kid who is in isolation.

After that call I got up and left the house. I'm sitting in my car at the park writing this, and while I know I will go back home eventually, I'm tempted to drive off and let my husband deal with this for a change.

[kcostanz]

disclaimer: I’m going to be existential & sad before I turn it around

As 2020 wraps, I find myself increasingly absorbed by understanding the practices that I’m newly drawn to. The things I’ve chosen to connect with to get through what has certainly been the most unexpected year of my life, and perhaps that of billions of others. Even making such a grand statement still boggles my mind. Taking a moment to step outside of my life to acknowledge this global reality always gives much needed perspective. Life has been altered in wholly unforeseeable ways for billions of people this year. 

Exactly how our lives and worlds have been reshaped certainly looks different for each and every one of us. Our realities are constructed by so much: where we live, who we live with, what we do each day, our job, or the roles we play in society as a whole. Every life looks different, but the pandemic’s impact on these answers (and many more) is ever-changing and harshly felt. 

Reflecting on my own journey that has been navigating covid-19 and its impact on the world centers upon my age. Being 22 years old right now feels like constantly being stuck at a major life inflection point. In many ways I’m at the height of decision making- important ones at that, that will guide (the beginnings of) the rest of my life. Existential and perhaps a bit dramatic I know, but the pandemic exacerbates these emotions, so throw me a bone. 

I spent the first 21 years of my life on a set path, a regulated track that unknowingly provided an absurd amount of comfort. I went to public school K-12, graduated high school, and attended a 4-year institution, long awaiting the fantastical graduation year that for so long existed as a far-off fantasy: 2020. 

That momentous final semester was different than expected, but I can’t complain. I spent the last 3 months of college with a small handful of my closest friends, attended classes from the comfort of my bed, and graduated in my tiny apartment with two of my closest friends who hung around until the end. 

I procrastinated packing and cleaning my apartment until the last possible moment as my disapproving landlord approached to conduct the final walkthrough. Unsurprisingly, I left with a fraction of the security deposit, and the hard learned lesson that expo marker writing does not always come out of refrigerators (as the All Purpose spray, Oxi-Clean, bleach, hot water, soap, and eventually, shamefully, white paint can attest). 

With a egregiously packed car and zero rear view visibility, I was off. I blasted oldies with a twinge of liberation- I think I recall Born to Run (don’t worry, I am indeed embarrassed). I left all four windows down until I could no longer stand the sound of garbage bags flapping. Five short hours later I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home in Rochester, NY (with a broken mirror in the trunk no less- unsure if I’m superstitious but it felt like bad luck). 

The latter half of 2020- from June until now, has been full of unknowns, decision making in the dark, and hard fought self motivation. Vivid mixes of emotions old and new. 

First the dread of moving back in with parents as a young adult, and the stubborn resistance to fully unpack, so as to not get “too comfortable” at home. I now know such a thing is impossible for many reasons, one being that regardless of the lighting, art, and design, the girly pink walls of my childhood bedroom have proven immutable. 

Following this initial shock were extreme levels of self-induced pressure to find a job, do nothing but apply to jobs, and then bask in dejected feelings of never being able to get a job. While in the process, fully isolating myself from others, because I simultaneously felt I had too much to do, but yet was never really doing a thing. That concept has been fun to sit with. It comes with the realization that the carefree bliss of not having a single thing to do- say for a month long winter break- is officially gone. The list of things you could (and probably should) be doing is endless- welcome to the real world, Kate!

August was a blessed, beautiful month that, at the risk of (again) sounding dramatic, I am eternally grateful for. During this sweltering month I lived out of a car for nearly 3 weeks, camping with two pals throughout Utah and Wyoming. Even hitting a deer at 9pm, in a no-cell service zone, in the middle of a State Forest in Wyoming was a welcomed adventure at this point. A broken transmission, impromptu camping, two-hour tow truck ride, countless insurance calls, hostile car dealership conversations, two rental cars later, and we were back on track. This (incomplete) list of challenges provided beautiful life experience however, imparting lessons I could never fully know until I lived them. 

Returning home was as expected, a difficult transition back to monotony. Did I apply to vineyard jobs vaguely “out west?” Absolutely. Did I have it in me to go through with such a spontaneous life choice? Unfortunately not, though to my credit I did realize important goals that stood in the way of a dreamy vagabond existence. 

The fall has been a blur, and now there’s snow on the ground. I’ve found myself living for the future, and rarely ever for the moment, which is entirely antithetical to my personal philosophy. I have proclaimed my personal soundtrack to 2020 to be the loop of traditional Lebanese music that plays on repeat at my job as a server at Sinbad’s Mediterranean Cuisine (now as a takeout extraordinaire. And yes, despite the lack of in-person customers we are indeed instructed to play the CDs as per usual). This work, or my role as a part-time nanny is far from fulfilling (though the kids are darn cute), but that’s not the point for now. “At least I’m saving!” has been my most reliable source of positive encouragement, nearing personal mantra. 

I write this from my childhood bedroom, sitting at my desk, which was once our kitchen table circa 2002. It is as wobbly as it is sentimental, and I love it. The desk faces a window, the sill littered with glassware and candles because I have a thing against artificial light. I have a total of five notebooks, half opened, each containing swirling levels of thoughts, drawings, organization, calendars and to do lists. An orange caricature of a topless french woman sunbathing sits in front of me, reminding me that “TOUT VA BIEN!” (that everything is fine). And in minutes I will be dancing to the Moana soundtrack or drawing christmas trees and unicorns with 3 and 4 year olds. A snapshot of my life, at 22 years old, in 2020. 

Despite my life not being what I expected, or what I wanted it to look like as I embark on what’s supposed to be the most adventurous, spontaneous, and simply well-lived decade of my life, it is what it is, and as the french lady says, everything is fine. I have two part-time jobs, unforeseen savings, quality family time (both for better and for worse), my mom’s cooking, and a roof over my head. In a world with inconceivably high death tolls, rising unemployment and homelessness rates, and the constant, precarious fear of general loss, I have infinite blessings to count.

Life does feel like a giant waiting game though. How can one strategically plan out what comes next in their individual life when the entire world remains a massive question mark? In a time when we feel trapped, impatiently waiting for opportunities, experiences, and adventures to reopen, waiting feels hopeless. Because it is. If you’re unhappy with the opportunities before you, create your own.

I’m not saying I’m doing a stellar job at this myself- and as you can see I certainly struggle with my fair share of existential pessimism (day in and day out). But doing things has a certain electrifying feel that ignites and empowers you to build a meaningful life. I’m producing a web series with a group of similarly listless 20 somethings who are also doing their best to be creative and productive from the confines of their family homes. I’m practicing yoga and meditation really to cope with my own stress and internal anxieties, but in doing so am creating new habits and mindsets that will certainly outlast the pandemic. I’ve connected with a group of strangers by dancing to shamantic and electronica music in various outdoor locations throughout Rochester. Whoa! Never would I have imagined finding such deeply liberating peace through ecstatic dance of all things, but hey 2020 is full of surprises. 

This position I’m in is both uniquely my own through my personal experiences, and also shared by more people than I could imagine. Maybe only bits and pieces resonate with you, or maybe you are living your best life in the city of your dreams with a fabulous career in a lovely home with the world’s best roommates. But even if that’s you- you’re missing out on something too. The whole world is. We feel disconnected, disjointed, digitally controlled and consumed, and despite who we surround ourselves with- isolated. We’re stuck living in a world of “once this is over I’ll….” and no matter who you are it feels damn weird to spend so much time in your head dreaming of a future rather than living it out in the now. 

So… solutions? As we all know, you only have so much control during a global pandemic (very little to be exact). But what you can control is how you live your life during it. I certainly won’t preach to what works and pretend like I’ve figured it out- that work is no one’s to do but your own. But I do feel that so much comes down to mindset, perspective, mental health and ultimately finding ways to seek inner peace. 

Potential solutions are abundant, and have been explored by more people now than ever before. Though there is no recipe to conquer the inevitable fears, concerns and anxieties that accompany the pandemic and this phase of life, I’m interested in further exploring some of the ones that work for me. How is something as simple as breathing so helpful? 

Finding inner peace is a sought after skill in 2020. I have endless gratitude to all of the incredible humans who have served as a source of learning, and have helped me to tap into positive internal energy. My intention is to look into some of the causes of (my personal) covid-realted inner turmoil and the solutions that have brought some serenity into my life. Though they may not always be long lasting, some answers are better than none. Here’s to writing for no one, and thank you for listening. <3 

[amazingsweets]

Things Are Looking Up – The Future of E-Grocery

There are few things destined for growth and e-grocery is one of them. This is owed to the disruption caused by the pandemic. It has brought about an incredible change in consumer behavior and finally broken one of the most difficult

shopping patterns—grocery shopping

.  Although online shopping has cast a shadow on most retail stores, the case has never been true for the grocery business, which is known to be a tough territory to profit in. This has taken a sharp U-turn in just a few months, with customers hoarding in a panic to a steady transition to shopping for groceries online. Grocers are mirroring this shift by sprucing up their front-end tools, investing in new platforms and building innovative fulfilment models. This article will explore the wave of anticipated competition, online threats, how retailers are high up their game and the role of logistics technology. The challenges with online grocery businesses are many—price transparency, delivery and fulfilment costs, and the natural resistance to

buying fresh grocery online

. While some customers are less likely to make impulse purchases online when it comes to groceries, others want deliveries within the hour. For this reason, making the online experience intuitive and attractive along with agile delivery systems is of prime importance.

The Future is Personalized

Micro-fulfillment centers are fast emerging as the solution to most e-grocery problems by bringing greater clarity and creating a more personalized shopping experience. Their main areas of focus are pick-up time and last-mile delivery, and more importantly, they can be installed in existing market setups. The future consumer will want to make grocery decisions based on the health and diet requirements, needs and even values. Tech aims to create a ‘supermarket of the future’ which can be attained through innovation in the following areas in e-grocery businesses in the years to come:1. AutomationReduced cost and manual labor are two of the many benefits of automation. They create the focus and energy for retailers to create an enhanced shopping experience for their customers. Smart merchandising solutions will not just eliminate waste but also make brick-and-mortar business spaces more attractive by making them more efficient and reliable. Time and money can be saved in warehouses with the help of an automated inventory management system. Companies are also dedicated to creating pallet carts and automated vehicles so that drivers are freed from the monotony of certain tasks. A great example of this is Ocado’s warehouse in Andover, Massachusetts, which can process more than 3.5 million items every week. The company is also developing robots that can pick up and handle odd-shaped items. 2. Artificial IntelligenceThe rules of Artificial Intelligence (AI) are simple: collect, analyze and retrieve data. A strong AI can replicate the human brain, even if it cannot replace it. It aids retailers in:

Controlling supply

Controlling and predicting customer demand

Managing marketing and pricing

Creating promotional campaigns and advertising

Streamlining store operations

3. Omnichannel ExperienceA strong omnichannel strategy helps to get an insight into the customers’ shopping habits, their brand preferences, the time they take to shop, their shopping preferences, etc to help improve their shopping experience. Loyalty programs are a great way to do this. 4. Enhanced Shopping ExperienceBetween real and virtual shops lies a sweet spot that combines the best of both worlds—enhanced digital shopping experiences within brick-and-mortar stores. An example of this is placing an online order within the store from a terminal. These are the items the customer does not wish to spend time picking, and for the remaining order, they can go around and select the items themselves and save time. 5. Drone Delivery Drones can help e-grocery take-off (no pun intended), and though it is a plan that is set in the future, some companies have taken the giant step.

Logistics Tech Can Help

Logistics tools can help e-grocery businesses flourish even as they cater to the increasing demands in food supplies. Brands must stay true to their promise of same-day-delivery if they wish to stay on top of their game. This can be accomplished with the following:

Automated Dispatch Planning – Dispatch planning is typically a tedious and cumbersome process. Advanced route optimization solutions improve logistics planning efficiency by planning on-demand daily dispatches.

Accurate Geocoding and Optimal Routing – Geocoding converts physical addresses into exact location points on a map. Route optimization software can then take these points to plan the shortest routes while ensuring to steer clear of on-ground traffic and restrictions.

Smart-Rider Allocation – The right rider can be assigned for every task. The software can assign the right rider by taking into account rider area preferences, skill sets and even rider’s working time restrictions.

Real-Time Visibility – Apart from being essential to businesses and customers alike, it helps ensure productivity and faster delivery services.

Smart Analytics- The system keeps collecting on-ground data while executing the tasks which can then help with better strategizing.

Though online grocery has been around for years, it is only now that it is beginning to carve a dent in major markets. Strong omnichannel strategies and small scalable micro fulfillment centers shine a light on the future path of e-grocery delivery businesses. Locus offers a range of AI-based logistics solutions to enterprises in grocery, retail, and E-commerce markets. Get in touch with our experts for a quick tour of our offerings.

[mattkeepsrambling]

No One Knows What They’re Doing: Monotony

I am running into an issue here. When I started this, the idea was to chronicle teaching during a pandemic. There have been plenty of challenges (mostly getting students to log on time), and there have been little victories. Being a teacher is made 1000 times harder when it has to be done over a Google Meet.

I am more frustrated with the technology than the students: on Friday, my computer decided to disable the mic during my Reading Mastery lesson. I hopped on my iPad while I restarted my computer, and it started working again.

Side note: When I signed on through my personal Gmail, the students were confused by seeing Matthew Levy joined. They asked who that was; I told them it was me, and they were blown away by the fact that they saw my first name. Meanwhile, they have seen Matt Levy on their computers for the last three months and paid it no attention.

I think the hardest thing about this is how mundane every day is becoming. I spend most of my day alone and interacting only with the students on the computer. My day is broken into sections more so than it has been before. The last two hours of my day is in 4 30-minute chunks. It is pretty much the same thing every day, and I think it takes its toll on me more than anything else. When teaching in person, it is so much different. It is easier to change things on the fly and modify lessons when students do not understand something. You know what the students have with them, and there is more access to stuff.

Now I am relying on the students to bring what they need with them. I cannot tell you how much time I have wasted waiting for students to get something to write with and something to write on this year. I cannot count the number of times I have had to repeat a page number because a student wasn't listening. If I was teaching in person, I could give them what they needed or get them to the right page quicker.

My last post was all about how I didn't want to work from home—starting Monday, November 16 through December 5, I will be doing it again. Thought this time in a slightly different manner. I shall be heading to Rochester for most of it. Stay tuned next week for the mini-series "Teaching From My Parents House!"

[sreyasid]

Is your health and fitness routine broken? 10 Things to do and stay In Shape?

From the onslaught of this pandemic on this world the people around have been facing a lot of problems all round be it on their physical or mental health. For most people the day and night seems to have merged together and in the absence of a rigid schedule the the daily harmony of life is being compromised. This is a has lead to disruption of work out routines, diet plans, sleep cycle , eating habits, snacking and so much more.

Incase you are one of the people suffering from these side effects of lockdown, here are 10 ways to get you back in shape by the best medicine app in India:

1. Set Goals

"If you want to be happy, set a goal that commands your thoughts, liberates your energy and inspires your hopes.” —Andrew Carnegie

Goal setting is one of the most important part of starting a fruitful series of self revival. It helps you stay focused and determined.

If required write your target BMI, weight or activity level and work towards it.

2. Routine

Set a time table for everyday. It will allow a natural and general flow of activity through and day and keep you hooked on a schedule. Use calendars and weekly planners to cut down your desires to smaller pieces and conquer individually. Give yourself positive reinforcements after the achievement of each target.

3. Be Active

Get up from your desk, bed or take a break from daily chores. Use this time to walk around aimlessly and observe the world around you. This can help you reset your brain and pay better attention to your work. Breaking the monotony to address inner thoughts always helps to achieve a well proven results.

4. Exercise

Exercising daily or at least five times a week helps to regulate the body and make you more active and alert. Exercise regularly in the morning or in the evening for 30 minutes at least. This will help you stay in shape and deal with the fits of restlessness and lethargy. Exercising not only improves physical health but helps the body to release Endorphins which trigger positive feelings and behaviour.

5. Healthy Diet

Besides exercise, a healthy diet can be a very active impetus for improving your general well being,

These are only a few benefits of healthy eating:

• Weight loss.

• Reduced cancer risk.

• Diabetes management.

• Heart health and stroke prevention.

• The health of the next generation.

• Strong bones and teeth.

• Better mood

• Improved memory

Snacking is another arena of eating that deserves special mention. Your snack should majorly consist of healthy food items like nuts, fruits, juices. Settle the junk or slightly unhealthy foods as treats for fulfilling a target or a specific agenda.

Also take plenty of fluids and electrolytes as required to maintain your fluid balance. Do not skip breakfast as it is the most important meal of the day.

Take your medication and supplements daily if required, for home delivery of medicines in Delhi visit :3MEDS

6. Sleep Cycle

If you are one of those people whose sleep cycle has been severely disrupted during this period don’t worry you are not a loner. Follow these simple steps to get back on track:

• Try sleeping in an appropriately lit room

• Avoid noises that may disturb your sleep or use noise environment in your favor, such as a white noise device.

• Make sure your bed is used primarily for sleep and avoid working or eating in your bed

Remember, sleep is a very important part of our health, it nourishes the body and the brain and restores energy and sustainability of the body. Lack of sleep can lead to serious health issues slowly but steadily.

7. Meditation

In the 1970s, Herbert Benson, MD, a researcher at Harvard University Medical School, coined the term “relaxation response" after conducting research on people who practiced transcendental meditation. The relaxation response, in Benson’s words, is “an opposite, involuntary response that causes a reduction in the activity of the sympathetic nervous system.”

To practice simple meditation at home:

• Close your eyes. ...

• Make no effort to control the breath; simply breathe naturally.

• Focus your attention on the breath and on how the body moves with each inhalation and exhalation

Meditation helps battle stress anxiety and depression in the short as long term benefits in helps in self discovery and enforcement of discipline.

8. Support System

Have a strong support system by trusting your family and friends and talk to them more freely and love them more generously. Have someone on speed dial to talk to whenever feeling down. Talking about problems and saying them loud helps find solutions and reduces the possibility of a stress build up.

9. Documentation and journaling

Document your achievements on social media or make a personal journal to do the same. Writing or documenting achievements helps commit to a form of activity and helps to convert it from a routine to a lifestyle.

10. Self Respect

This is probably the most important thing of all. Without the lack of respect for your identity and your self you may lose interest or may find it difficult to back up your efforts. Give yourself cheat days and do compare yourself past self and understand your growth and development

So buckle up. The present time is the most important moment to make a move towards a better future. Adopting a healthier lifestyle will not only affect your life today but benefit you for the days to come. 40 maybe the new 30 in life references but your body will not listen to you at forty if you don’t take care of it today

[bigyack-com]

Why the Apple iPhone SE Doesn't Matter

This article is part of the On Tech newsletter. You can sign up here to receive it weekdays.Join us for a live conversation about tech and the coronavirus. Today at 4 p.m. Eastern time, my Times Opinion colleague Charlie Warzel and I are hosting a conference call to talk about the use of smartphone location data to fight the coronavirus and other aspects of using technology in this pandemic. Lend us your ears, and ask your burning questions. You can RSVP here.This sure feels like a strange time for Apple to release a new iPhone. But here’s a hard truth: Our habits show that new phones are irrelevant to most of us — in a pandemic or otherwise.Brian X. Chen, a New York Times personal technology writer, wrote about Apple’s plan to release a new version of the iPhone SE next week. That’s the four-year-old model with a relatively small screen and a relatively low price of $399 and up in the United States.This iPhone model hasn’t been a blockbuster, but it’s a nice option for some people. Apple and other companies are likely to keep releasing more fresh smartphone models this year, perhaps with some pandemic-related delays.Conditions aren’t ideal for selling stuff. American consumer spending in March fell at the fastest rate in the nearly three decades the government has tracked the data. Many stores around the world, including Apple’s and other cellphone retailers’, are closed. Millions of newly unemployed people don’t have spare money, and Americans are shifting what they are buying. Groceries and streaming video, yes. Electronics, no.Apple probably had this latest model ready to go before the pandemic hit — and sure, why not give it a go? The honest truth is, it’s impossible to predict if and when our buying habits will return to normal.New smartphones have been a tough sell for some time. People in the United States and many other countries are waiting longer to replace their phones — for Americans, it’s more than three years on average.Pick your favorite explanation for this phenomenon. Many people don’t want to pay the going rate of $1,000 or more for phones with all the bells and whistles. To some people, even the features that are supposed to be exciting feel blah.The best explanation for the smartphone sales malaise is a simple one: This is what happens when products go from new and novel to normal.Products get more reliable and resilient as they become mass market, and new models don’t feel so different from the old. Apart from the die-hards, most people lose interest in the latest and greatest. The hot new thing feels…fine.In Brian’s assessment of last fall’s iPhone models, he said there was no rush to buy a new phone if your current one is less than a few years old. (Yes, a professional tech reviewer suggested you might NOT need to buy something.)The shift from wow to shrug happened with cars, personal computers and televisions. More than a decade after modern smartphones hit the market, we’ve lost our zing for those pocket computers, too. Until economic conditions stabilize, our zing will probably be even less zingy than normal.A smartphone is now a refrigerator. We need it, but we don’t replace our current model when a new ice-making feature comes out. This is not great for companies with shiny new phones to sell. For the rest of us, it’s fine.

When old tech really is a problem

A three-year-old smartphone is great. Broken government technology that’s failing struggling people is not.My colleagues have written about the Small Business Administration’s online application system melting down with loan requests from businesses applying for help. A Lyft driver in New York was told to fax his pay stubs to the unemployment office. There are unprecedented demands right now. But, wow, this is a bad look for government technology when it’s needed most.The problem isn’t necessarily the age of the technology used by government organizations. It’s the upkeep.The hidden secret of the internet is that behind the scenes, there are Sputnik-era computers doing chores like handling your credit card payment on Amazon and filling your online travel reservations. That 60-year-old computer programming language that New Jersey’s governor talked about? It works, as long as there are people to keep it up-to-date.The problem with many government and even corporate technology is the lack of money and care for upkeep. Chris O’Malley, the chief executive of Compuware, which works on old tech, told me there’s a mentality that tech systems are something you set up once and they’re done. Nope. If it ain’t broke, it still needs fixing.

Before we go …

When “less bad” is good. Businesses are cutting back on advertisements. Others are nervous about their ads appearing in a Facebook feed next to grim news. That dynamic is likely to hurt Google and Facebook, which make most of their money from selling ads, my Times colleagues write. Still, the tech titans will probably hold up better than other companies reliant on advertising.We need baby ducks right now: In our doom times, people are gravitating to news websites and social media accounts featuring happy tales like a police officer guiding ducklings, the Times reporter Taylor Lorenz writes. (A shameless plug to stick around for the end of this newsletter.)Another idea to bridge America’s digital divide: Thomas L. Friedman, the Times Opinion columnist, talks up a proposal for federal loans and regulatory changes to help rural communities and cooperatives build fast internet networks. Expanding online access would encourage more inventions like the robotic poultry coop cleaners he found in Minnesota. Yesterday, I wrote about another plan to make fast internet available to more people.Stick to the basics. Brian, in another article, said the pandemic has made it clear what technology is essential in our personal lives, and what is neat but frivolous.Hugs to thisPete Wells, a restaurant critic for The Times, writes a lovely appreciation of this six-hour video of sheep at a California vineyard. They are mostly sitting, bleating or munching grass. The monotony is strangely soothing.You can reach us at ontech@nytimes.com.To receive On Tech in your inbox each weekday, please sign up here. Read the full article

[bigyack-com]

Why the Apple iPhone SE Doesn't Matter

This article is part of the On Tech newsletter. You can sign up here to receive it weekdays.Join us for a live conversation about tech and the coronavirus. Today at 4 p.m. Eastern time, my Times Opinion colleague Charlie Warzel and I are hosting a conference call to talk about the use of smartphone location data to fight the coronavirus and other aspects of using technology in this pandemic. Lend us your ears, and ask your burning questions. You can RSVP here.This sure feels like a strange time for Apple to release a new iPhone. But here’s a hard truth: Our habits show that new phones are irrelevant to most of us — in a pandemic or otherwise.Brian X. Chen, a New York Times personal technology writer, wrote about Apple’s plan to release a new version of the iPhone SE next week. That’s the four-year-old model with a relatively small screen and a relatively low price of $399 and up in the United States.This iPhone model hasn’t been a blockbuster, but it’s a nice option for some people. Apple and other companies are likely to keep releasing more fresh smartphone models this year, perhaps with some pandemic-related delays.Conditions aren’t ideal for selling stuff. American consumer spending in March fell at the fastest rate in the nearly three decades the government has tracked the data. Many stores around the world, including Apple’s and other cellphone retailers’, are closed. Millions of newly unemployed people don’t have spare money, and Americans are shifting what they are buying. Groceries and streaming video, yes. Electronics, no.Apple probably had this latest model ready to go before the pandemic hit — and sure, why not give it a go? The honest truth is, it’s impossible to predict if and when our buying habits will return to normal.New smartphones have been a tough sell for some time. People in the United States and many other countries are waiting longer to replace their phones — for Americans, it’s more than three years on average.Pick your favorite explanation for this phenomenon. Many people don’t want to pay the going rate of $1,000 or more for phones with all the bells and whistles. To some people, even the features that are supposed to be exciting feel blah.The best explanation for the smartphone sales malaise is a simple one: This is what happens when products go from new and novel to normal.Products get more reliable and resilient as they become mass market, and new models don’t feel so different from the old. Apart from the die-hards, most people lose interest in the latest and greatest. The hot new thing feels…fine.In Brian’s assessment of last fall’s iPhone models, he said there was no rush to buy a new phone if your current one is less than a few years old. (Yes, a professional tech reviewer suggested you might NOT need to buy something.)The shift from wow to shrug happened with cars, personal computers and televisions. More than a decade after modern smartphones hit the market, we’ve lost our zing for those pocket computers, too. Until economic conditions stabilize, our zing will probably be even less zingy than normal.A smartphone is now a refrigerator. We need it, but we don’t replace our current model when a new ice-making feature comes out. This is not great for companies with shiny new phones to sell. For the rest of us, it’s fine.

When old tech really is a problem

A three-year-old smartphone is great. Broken government technology that’s failing struggling people is not.My colleagues have written about the Small Business Administration’s online application system melting down with loan requests from businesses applying for help. A Lyft driver in New York was told to fax his pay stubs to the unemployment office. There are unprecedented demands right now. But, wow, this is a bad look for government technology when it’s needed most.The problem isn’t necessarily the age of the technology used by government organizations. It’s the upkeep.The hidden secret of the internet is that behind the scenes, there are Sputnik-era computers doing chores like handling your credit card payment on Amazon and filling your online travel reservations. That 60-year-old computer programming language that New Jersey’s governor talked about? It works, as long as there are people to keep it up-to-date.The problem with many government and even corporate technology is the lack of money and care for upkeep. Chris O’Malley, the chief executive of Compuware, which works on old tech, told me there’s a mentality that tech systems are something you set up once and they’re done. Nope. If it ain’t broke, it still needs fixing.

Before we go …

When “less bad” is good. Businesses are cutting back on advertisements. Others are nervous about their ads appearing in a Facebook feed next to grim news. That dynamic is likely to hurt Google and Facebook, which make most of their money from selling ads, my Times colleagues write. Still, the tech titans will probably hold up better than other companies reliant on advertising.We need baby ducks right now: In our doom times, people are gravitating to news websites and social media accounts featuring happy tales like a police officer guiding ducklings, the Times reporter Taylor Lorenz writes. (A shameless plug to stick around for the end of this newsletter.)Another idea to bridge America’s digital divide: Thomas L. Friedman, the Times Opinion columnist, talks up a proposal for federal loans and regulatory changes to help rural communities and cooperatives build fast internet networks. Expanding online access would encourage more inventions like the robotic poultry coop cleaners he found in Minnesota. Yesterday, I wrote about another plan to make fast internet available to more people.Stick to the basics. Brian, in another article, said the pandemic has made it clear what technology is essential in our personal lives, and what is neat but frivolous.Hugs to thisPete Wells, a restaurant critic for The Times, writes a lovely appreciation of this six-hour video of sheep at a California vineyard. They are mostly sitting, bleating or munching grass. The monotony is strangely soothing.You can reach us at ontech@nytimes.com.To receive On Tech in your inbox each weekday, please sign up here. Read the full article