The one thing that battles my sense of futility is reading Japanese, so I do that desultorily, Hamabe no Kafuka and the first Utena novel by turns. The latter is a fast read that taxes me not at all and therefore feels like it's accomplishing nothing. The former I want to read but am presently slogging through the military report part. Am tempted to go read that bit in translation and come back to the Japanese for the narration but I know I'd just keep on in English, so I don't. I slog on through Trustram Shandy instead, marvelling at how much time the eighteenth century had on its hands.
A book came into the library for me, but there's no pickup slot open for week. Worse, the books I took back nearly a week ago are still listed as being out. I'm glad there's library resources available, however limited, but since the buildings themselves are closed to all but staff, you'd think they might be better and returning and reshelving. Well, and sanitizing too, I suppose, though I'm still dubious about surface transmission.
And otherwise have lost a day, finally. Today is not Saturday and I have *not* been out in two days. Friday I did a grocery shop and indulged in asparagus and Ontario strawberries, my one consolation at the moment.