Too Darn Hot

Woke up feeling sick at 5 am, and just decided to get up.  No breeze at all last night, leaned out the door for a while and looked at the stars, but it wasn't much cooler outside vs inside.  Broke out the box fan to try to cool things down, but it was still around 87 F.  I drank enough, I don't think I'm dehydrated, but sick from the heat.

Got some coffee on way into work (went into work because it's air-conditioned.)  Made me feel worse, and my thoughts were odd and forgetful, shaky, headache, nauseous, etc.  Finally, took an ibuprofen, and ate some salty protein, and am starting to feel better.

Found out I'm getting an air-conditioning unit next week, which is good.  Not sure what I'll do tonight, no cooling centers in my neighborhood, but I'll stay at work as long as I can.  My phone says it's already 102 F.

As I was leaving the house, one worksite was just getting started, while I heard someone shout down from a second building that all work was ceasing by 10 am. (I'm surrounded by construction sites.)  At least they're keeping safe.

Waiting for the heat

Sitting in my semi-dark apartment now that I've figured out I can climb up on my table to reach the high blinds and close them to keep out the heat; now I feel like I'm waiting for the heat apocalypse.  Maybe 110 F on Monday?!?!  It's actually kinda' pleasant right now.

Took some time off to go to the garden and water.  On other minds, there was a wait for one of the spigots.  The garden is going nuts (as per usual, it just gets away from me every season, though I begin with the best intentions.)  All the zucchini are producing, and the plants seems to double in size every time I stop by.  I planted watermelon (a bit on accident, I wasn't paying enough attention, and thought I was buying cantaloupe.)  They are starting to take off, enjoying the heat.  I hope they produce.

Had to go to the doctor last Friday, every time I've gone through Downtown for the past year-and-a-half it's been a ghost town.  On Friday, there were people everywhere, pandemic be damned.  Partially, it was a Friday afternoon, partially, it's summer, and partially, I think people are ready to be out in the world again.  Anyway, walked north, to S. Lake Union Park afterward, not really recognizing anything, construction never stopped, and what had formerly been more of an industrial neighborhood is now shiny high tech high rises.  The one benefit of the construction is more open space at ground level.  More human friendly, greener.  The outdoor mall near the University has been packed (more than I've ever seen it) with partial street closers, and more pedestrian friendly, as well.  It's near a wooded area, as well as a wetland, and while waiting at a crosswalk on my way home, a group of crows chased a red-tailed hawk which dove about ten feet above my shoulder and then landed on a nearby roof.  No one else seemed to notice.  By the time I was almost across the street, they did it again, and then the whole lot of them flew off into the forest.  Obviously, they can all maneuver well enough to not smack into objects (me) even while being pursued.  It was kinda' exciting though.

And one benefit of the pandemic has been the forced hand to open up sidewalk dining, that's everywhere now, and full.  Before, everything defaulted to cars, now there's a little more consideration for people.  (That includes neighborhood street closers, too.)

I was hoping to get an A/C unit, but when I asked, was told I'd be charged $400 to borrow one.  That did eventually get straightened out (my apartment is supposed to use one for free, and I think the ones on my floor, as well), but they don't have any available anyway.  I went out on Wednesday evening looking for a fan, and did find two box fans at the second store, they had window fans, too, but I don't have any windows that open.  I bought one.  And then I went to Goodwill on the way home from work, and bought some t-shirts. (I don't have any clothes for hot weather; it so rarely fluctuates all that much here.  I kinda wear the same clothes all year.)  I don't think you can try things on, yet, but I guessed, and now need to do laundry.

After second dose

Had my second vaccine dose yesterday.  Much more busy at the clinic, lots of kids getting vaccinated this time.  Had a pretty rough night, but as the day progresses, I am feeling better.  Woke up feeling like I had the flu with a hangover.  Mostly, it's the headache that's the problem, and that could also been caused by smoking outside my window, which seems to happen a lot; the neighborhood is dense.  And I left my "door" open all night. (The only window that opens in this apartment is a sliding glass door.  I'm on the sixth floor, so it's not a big issue to leave it open.)

I went in with my eyes fully opened, and made the right choice for me, out of love and my own moral compass.  Whatever the outcomes ends up being.  And I hope it helps.

Sunday, April 18, 2021

 The seedlings in the peat pots came up quickly, all sprouting in a day, leggy and reaching toward the high windows, following the sun.  In the garden, the transplanted peas limp along, surviving the feedings of rabbits and snails, but none of the seeds there have germinated, in spite of the heat.  Still the plants sit ordered for now; I can't imagine it will last.  Entropy will win as it does every other year.  Already dandelions shine their abundant yellow faces to the sun, and last year's kale opens more yellow flowers.  Borage and calendula bloom.  All in vain, in the two hours I spent planting lettuces, and tending to what remained of the transplanted cilantro, only a lone cabbage moth fluttered through the garden; no other pollinating insects.  No bees.  No flies.  Nothing more at all.  Most days I can count almost to a hundred.

I hurried back to a nature poetry/essay sharing on Zoom, arrived late, though not too late to read.  There is always more to do, and when I get myself there, I enjoy the peace of the garden.

I don't sleep much anymore, last night less than usual.  Someone ran a garbage disposal on/off for hours, a low pulsing buzz pushing against my ears from 1 am- 5am.  Finally, went and slept on the floor where I could hear it the least, it was that or the bathtub.  Now slices of sunlight fall down from the windows.  Perhaps I should nap.

I have an appointment for a COVID-19 vaccination later on in the week.  I don't know how I will get there and back.  Still, at least it's in town, my co-worker is driving to another county for hers.  I don't mind going in now, but feel unsure about crowds again in the autumn.  Back to a time where doors are unlocked and people wander freely.  The old daily schedule still sits at the conference rooms, announcing no meeting, March 13, 2020. On March 12, we locked the doors.  Around there is evidence of a world without people at the center of it.  Flowers growing in the cracks of the pavement.  Nests above the doors.

I mostly only travel within walking distance (which can be far.)  Happily surprised whenever I see the "Mountain" out, forgetting how common that once had been.  Surprised by human enterprise, too, building has boomed on in the Downtown core, in spite of a lack of people to occupy them on a daily basis.  Walking across a freeway overpass on a recent weeknight, I hardly recognized the skyline at all.  Closer to home, the tent cities grow daily, and signs on light poles, and curbside collection points, announce the gathering of supplies, food, clothing, hygiene items, for those without homes.  The dissonance is a screeching siren.  The small house outside my window is for sale for almost $2 million, the price of the sky above it.

How do we meet ourselves again?  Who will we be when we all return to the common space?  What shape will our universe hold?  This has been a year of seismic shifts, will any of that make a difference?  Do we care at all?

Back to Lockdown

 Walking out in the calm before the storm, still quite dark out.  Since the time change, I've been trying to see how far I can walk in an hour before I start work.  My routines are limited to the distance I can walk.  I've probably only taken a bus a handful of times since March.  They seem safe enough, but I always wash everything I was wearing and shower after.  Mostly I walk to bakeries to get coffee, or a sandwich.  Places I'd forgotten about.  Wandering through neighborhoods, in general, limits my impact with people not wearing masks.  The Lake is about half and half, wearing/not wearing, so I avoid it most of the time.

This morning I walked out to the dock to look at the ducks.  Lots of mergansers this year, both Common and Hooded.  Also the big flocks of American Wigeons have returned for the winter.  The water and sky were calm, but after running a brief errand to pick up coffee and milk, the rain had begun to fall and the wind had kicked up.

We're on lockdown again, like everyone else.  It was early, but the store was well-stocked, and not-at-all busy.

I did move in late summer.  There was damage to the apartment after I signed the lease, and I am still in limbo regarding the repairs being done (over 2 1/2 months now.)  Someone on the top floor set off the sprinkler system on the Sunday night after I signed the lease.  My apartment had minimal damage, but still had heaters blasting for almost two weeks, and then they tore out part of my ceiling.  The ceiling is now repaired and repainted, but I'm still waiting for the overhead light to be put back up.  And a massive plume of dust (paint? plaster?) blew into the apartment a couple of weeks ago that I'm still cleaning up. (It had set off the smoke detectors in the hall, and I had to bust through plastic sealing to get out, and that sucked all the dust in.  It was like walking out into a dust storm.  Anyway, it settled everywhere.)

Still, with the increasing COVID19 cases, I am glad to be living alone.  And I have my own bathroom and kitchen, and don't have to clean up after other people, or worry so much about strangers (minus the workers.)  So, I am eating better, and cooking more.  Where I work is about three feet from my stove.  I've been adjusting on this banana-chocolate-chip-cookie recipe and I made membrillo on Sunday.  Four quinces turns into a lot of quince paste!  Wish we could still have potlucks, maybe I'll freeze it.  Next up, I'm going to tackle bread.  I've been trying to get some sourdough starter, but in the meantime, I think I'll try a no-knead bread, I have a tiny counter, so will have to figure something out for kneading space.

The day isn't getting any brighter, I should probably turn on a light.

Almost Moving Day

The constant in my life over the past five months has been waiting in line at the Farmers' Market every Saturday morning.  Everyone masked up, six feet  or more apart, waiting.  It's typically been 45 minutes to an hour.  I was confused by how short the line was this morning, only half the block instead of around the corner. Watching the flowers bloom, the leaves fill out in summer, and now beginning to dry out and drop.  New apartments went up on NE 52nd, and now they are almost ready to be lived in.  Every weekend someone moving out, somewhere, and I always wonder if I missed some message.  I don't know why I find comfort in people moving into places, but I do, and they aren't, at least not on Saturday mornings.  Just leaving.

I signed a lease yesterday.  Had a bit of a panic attack afterword, it's more money than I've spent when I've travelled for a month.  I had to get renter's insurance, along with internet...there are a lot of advantages with living with other people and sharing the cost of everything.  And I love the space of a house, and the back yard, the big front porch, all the light in my room, the safety of the neighborhood.  This is one of the safest places I've ever lived, the first college I went to was the other one.

What I won't miss is my tendency of over-functioning.  Of having to clean up the kitchen before being able to cook in it.  Having to wipe up someone else's pee before using the toilet.  Cleaning someone else's hair out of the bathtub, separating food out of the recycling, being the only one that cleans the house.  What will I do with all the extra time?  I've never lived alone.  I never really wanted to.  But it seems like a good time to figure out what I want, need, etc when I'm not always having to compromise.  I don't blame that on anyone else, it's just part of living with other people, you have to make adjustments.

And the person I've been having issues with the most is moving as well, and I guess I could stay, but I'd still be me, and still over-functioning, and I need to learn to not do that, to figure myself out.  So, it's still good to move, plus the whole COVID vs my immune system situation.

I rented a loft, which is somewhat nuts with arthritis.  But I figure I can leave my bed on the main level/kitchen area, and make the loft part a study/meditation/art space.  I wish I'd taken pictures, they don't actually have a diagram of the unit I rented on the website of the building.  My criteria was closet space, a stove, my own bathroom, and enough space to unpack all my boxes and figure out what to do with it all.  I just haven't really had the space.  I realized I've been living out of boxes for 16 years.  It's time to unpack.

Now it's August

It's been cool and gray all day.  Got soaked going out on my morning walk, but figured I'd enjoy it anyway: a break from the heat, and the novelty of rain.  Yesterday, I felt like every time I was in my room, I'd be in a pool of sweat after about 5 minutes.  Two of my housemates had gone to the mountains for the day, so, I didn't need to avoid the main level of the house as much as usual.  Late in the day, I was sitting answering work emails, with an ice pack, as the only way I could stand it.  The diner across the street had given me the ice in a bag because I'd been stung (bit?) by a large stinging insect on my morning walk.  I don't know what it was, I was trying to get a better look at an injured squirrel, and suddenly something large was angrily buzzing near my head, and then I felt like a large rubber band had been snapped on my scalp, and whatever it was flew off.  I didn't find a stinger, and it didn't seem to leave a mark when I tried to look later, but it hurt.  The squirrel briefly rallied and drug its embattled body down the road a little ways.  I couldn't figure out what happened, it almost looked like it had been hit by a car, but we were a long ways from a (used) road.  I don't know what I could've done.  There were a bunch of Coopers Hawks in the area, they probably got it after I left.  I was grasping my head from the pain.  Though, I don't know if it's because of the ice, the ibuprofen, or the fact that it was on my scalp, but it disappeared after a couple of hours.

We still have the bee issue at home.  I got a closer look, and I think they are actually yellow jackets.  They seem to mostly mind their own business, though, if you stay out of their flight path.

No idea when we are going back to work now.  There was a notice that went out today, and it's still remote for a while, until COVID19 cases start going down.  Do realize I could live somewhere else, since even if I did start coming in to work, I could borrow a car to do that.  My lease is up, so I'm thinking about it.  It's just such a strange time.  One of my housemates moved to a country we could still go to at the end of July.  On the one hand, it's seems a bit crazy, but on another one, he's young, he has a place to stay there, and none of us have any guarantees of anything at this point.  Any of us could get sick and die next week, or get sick and have no symptoms at all.  There's no certainty anymore.  There's no guarantee of a "later" to do something.  To save something for.

With my housemates out of the kitchen yesterday, I finally did something with the sour cherries I keep buying.  I love the idea of them, and I enjoy the taste, but I keep not doing anything with them.  I have a cookbook with a recipe for preserved fruits in syrup.  I think it's from Cyprus.  So I made a couple of jars with cherries yesterday.  I used 3 C with 1 1/4 C of sugar, the juice of a lemon, and a cup of water.  I also added a splash of hierbas that I brought back from Galicia.  It's pretty.  And shockingly sweet, which the author warns of, and she calls for 1 1/2  C sugar, so  I used less.  Anyway, I bought some sparkling water and tried it in that, which was good.  And then decided to add some rose water (which I randomly bought a couple of weeks ago, for a pudding or something), and it's a pleasing combination.  I actually drop the cherries in, as well as the syrup, it's sorta' like a fruit tea.  I might try adding herbs.  Looking for interesting drinks that aren't necessarily alcoholic.  I did put the alcohol in, but it boiled from 20 minutes after that point, so I don't think that counts.  My drinking has gone way down since the lockdowns began, it's not zero, but it's like it was before 2017.  I drank socially, or as a way of sitting in a bar to read or write, and none of that is happening anymore.

The other thing I've been enjoying is experimenting with corn and zucchini chowder, and adding fish of some sort.  I throw the cobs in for most of the cooking time (instead of tossing them in the compost), and I've tried smoked salmon (I had some sitting around that I'd bought at Christmas), which was good, and then a mixture of Pacific Cod and Dungeness Crab, which was okay, needed more salt at any rate.  I liked the salmon one more, but it's fine just vegetables, too.  I really enjoy the corn taste, and I'm actually getting zucchini this year, maybe it's the variety, but I don't usually have any luck with it. It's the pale green, smooth one.  I like zucchini.

I think it's started raining again.  And now I'm hungry.

Four months on

It's funny, I was going to finally try to write a new post, and started looking at some old ones.  There's a post from late November 2013 where I was afraid of violence with my scene partner, six months later, we did our final class presentation together, and the scene we chose to do was a marital fight that got physical.  Of course, it's one thing to worry about someone you don't know well's reaction vs. a planned and choreographed fight.  The final scene was actually a lot of fun to do, though a friend later told me she thought it was scary. (So, I guess that means it worked?)

I spend most of my days in my room, months on end.  Go for a long walk every day, and today, I did two, because I wanted to see if I could get quarters for laundry, and I needed to check my mail.  As far as quarters go, they aren't circulating like they were before the pandemic, so change is hard to come by.  The bank was rationing one roll per person, and everyone in line seemed to need them (laundry.)  The teller said they happened to have some today because someone brought some in.  I brought in some dimes and pennies, and a check I've had for months (a refund for a performance that was cancelled back in March.)  Guess I'll skip using the dryer.

Everything's been irritating me, and I feel scratchy and like my skin is burning.  I was thinking as I walked home again, that I needed to really sit with it and see what that's all about, when suddenly, a northern flicker landed on a nearby chimney and made the sound like a squeaky toy.  It's cute.  It totally helped lift my mood.

It was so quiet out on the walk this morning.  The sky was gray, and the world felt like it was holding it's breath for a rain that never quite came, only in a slight dampness of air.  Everything felt crisp: the plants, each unique color in the landscape, the air, the grass, that while green, felt dry and crunchy...alert.  Aware.  And then nothing happened.  The sounds returned; it's quite loud out right now: low-flying airplanes, and the wind is carrying the sound of the freeway through the window.  Baby crows begging to be fed.

My garden isn't germinating.  Perhaps I need to water more regularly.  I finally harvested and ate the unknown artichokes: they are smallish, and very armored with spikes.  I bought them several years ago, and I think they might've been mislabeled.  It says to harvest artichokes when the buds/petals are closed, but these appear from the stem with the petals open.  Anyway, they tasted fine.  I was hoping to have lettuce, but it's not germinating.  (Or the rabbits got to it before I covered it, though I can't imagine they'd bother at that stage.)

And we have bees living in our walls.  Both my housemate and I have asked the landlord to take care of it (as we are not allowed to) and he finally got back to me today saying he'd bring over some wasp spray. They are honey bees, or something of that nature.  They are in the walls.  And apparently wasp spray just kinda' pisses them off and makes them aggressive.  (Yay for us, and for the neighbors' kids who play in adjacent yards.) There are professionals to take care of this.  Safely.  Plus people who would like to have the honey bees.  I just hope we don't all get stung.  (We can't really go anywhere to avoid it.)

Saturday

I went to the Farmer's Market this morning.  Had been closed for a month?  I lose track of time.  I'd been looking forward to it, to supporting the farmers, but found I was anxious this morning.  I haven't left my neighborhood really, in the past 30 days.  I walked the extreme outer perimeter of the Lake last Monday, with two of my housemates, and it was crowded, we mostly managed to avoid people.  And I went to the bank 3 or 4 weeks ago?  I needed quarters for laundry, and all the banks near my house were closed to in-person banking.  But I haven't even been to the garden in two weeks, and I was going late afternoon, after work, and even then lots of people out on the sidewalks between here and there, much more than usual: walking or biking or jogging are what's left to do.

Last weekend the bigger parks were closed, including Green Lake.  I walked over to the edge early in the day, wondering how they would close it.  There was a park's vehicle slowly driving up the walking path, calling out via loudspeaker, to leave the park, the park was closed.  I was on the edge of the grass, and felt a twinge of entitlement (much to my chagrin) but turned and walked back into the neighborhood, because, of course that applies to me, too.

On Easter (was that just six days ago?) I went for a long walk, winding through the neighborhood, avoiding people, but enjoying the warm spring morning, and the bright blue sky, trees in bloom, birds singing.  Feeling any anxiety I had just wash out of my body and my mind.  Reminding me of the last time I felt that much freedom (aside from occasions on the Camino) was when I was a teenager/early 20's and in college.  Now, there's always something I should be doing, or need to get to that hangs over my head, doesn't let me enjoy the moment as much as I'd like.  Coming toward home, I saw someone carrying a big bouquet of flowers, and then remembered reading an email about a local eatery selling flower bouquets from some of the local flower growers, who had no market for them.  I went down and bought some, they are still holding up.  Did the online church service (and it was strange doing Holy Week alone), and later called home.

Anyway, it rained all night, was still raining when I walked over to the Market.  But a mask over my lower face as I got near the entrance.  Someone told me the line to get in wrapped around the block, she was walking away.  Found the end of the line, stood in the rain, moving up six feet every few minutes as they let someone else shop.  Probably 45 minute wait.  Most people wore masks.  Most people kept their distance.  Staff directing foot traffic and line-ups when people started to gather around the vendors.  It went fairly smoothly.  Probably half the usual vendors.  Hopefully, it was all safe enough, and it will continue on.

On Saturdays, I often would go out to breakfast at the nearby diner.  Last time I was there, before the official "Stay at Home" order, but lots of places had closed already, I said to one of the staff whom I'd been talking to a lot as of late, "See you next week, God willing." And then a couple days later they were closed, and now boarded up.  I miss them.  I miss the Pub, which was doing take-out, but closed earlier in the month.  I miss my bus driver.  I miss taking the bus.  I miss going into work.  I miss church.  I miss human touch.  I miss sharing meals/snacks/coffee.  I miss sitting across from someone.

On Thursday, we did a Zoom Happy Hour with work, that was nice.  I went to Happy Hour with a friend on Friday the 13th, I think, of March. We had tickets to a dance performance, but it'd been cancelled earlier in the day.  We shared the food, ate with our fingers.  Neither of us were sick, or got sick, but that feeling was in the air.

My mom mentioned my sister was harvesting the dandelions and using all of them.  I want to go pick flowers (almost bought some at the Market, but figured I could go to the garden and get some, though I did buy dandelion leaves and stinging nettle.  I ate the leaves for lunch today.)  She made dandelion vinegar, I think I will, too.  If you can find them unsprayed, the entire plant is edible, one of the most nutritious plants you can eat.  Lots of recipes online.

Anyway, getting out of the house was good.  I find I don't want to really engage much with anyone, save the housemates, whom I don't actually know all that well, two of them had just moved in right before the "Stay at Home" order, and we do keep our distance.  Most of my conversations are short, and with the coffee shop owner/workers, where I go everyday.  Pretty much only regular charges to my bank account over the past month.  Helps keep them afloat and keeps me sane.  I wonder how we will ease out of this isolation?  Cases jumped a bit at the end of the week.  There's an antibody test soon, but that may or may not be useful, news from the UK says to be cautious, we don't know if we can get immunity.  Though it's useful for working toward a vaccine, and for donating plasma.

Last time I worked in the garden, some crows stealthily got into my gardening stuff while I was at the shed, and stole some seed packets (they dumped out my bags first).  When I finally realized, I ran toward them, one hopped away, and the other grabbed a packet of zinnia seeds, and flew up into a low branch of a nearby tree and proceeded to ripped the packet open and consume the seeds.  When I finally got over near it, it flew back into the garden, dropped the packet, and perched on a water spigot.  Two seeds remained.  Then the two flew into another plot and dug around.  I think they are the breeding pair from last year, they had one baby which we often found sitting in someone's plot, but the adults didn't seem to care that we were around, like they normally would.  I think they've adopted us.  The nest is in the middle of the garden, and not all that high.

There's a plane flying over.  Such a rare occasion now.  The skies are really quiet from human noise.  Even the construction is only a couple times a week.  It's bird song, wind through the trees in the afternoons, and the distant hum of traffic from the freeway, when the wind is in the right direction.

It's the new normal, where nothing is as it was, nothing seems quite real, as if it will suddenly lift, or we'll wake up from a dream, where we were being stalked by something we couldn't see.

Saturday, because the garbage was picked up yesterday

It's Saturday.  Mostly been quarantined for the past week, officially it was Wednesday night, or was it Monday night?  I go for walks, since the parking lots at the lake have been closed, and since it's been rainy all week, the numbers of people have decreased, keeping more of a distance.  When I pass people on the paths, we give each other 6-10 feet of clearance.  I go get a cup of coffee every morning.  The grocery stores and coffee shops have marks on the floor for how far to stay apart.  I find this essential, I need the check-in with someone.

On Monday night one of my housemates went to go hunker down with his family, he wanted to go before he might have been infected, and his family wanted him home.  One of my other housemates took off for California right before quarantine there, she's a college student, and her school was cancelled for the rest of the year, she also wanted to be with her parents.

On Wednesday, I had been home too long, and felt like I was going to hurt someone (two of the housemates were banging stuff around and it was driving me nuts.)  It probably would've bothered me less had I not been inside my room all day.  Thursday morning, I read the news after I woke up, and cried for an hour, it suddenly felt very real to me.  Read a story of sanitation workers finding people dead on their beds when they entered houses to disinfect, and that's just heartbreaking.  I had to go for a walk before starting work.

I made the stew again on Thursday, realizing that my diet has been awful (almost entirely carbs) and needed to eat something healthy, but not feeling like cooking.  It's the third time I've made it.  The second time I added carrots and then peas at the end.  This time I opened a can of wine, and realized it was sangria, and not a house red, so used apple cider vinegar in place.  Forgot to add peas, but had increased the carrots to two.  It worked.  And it can just sit on the stove simmering while I do other things.  For work, I mostly take calls, answer emails, and am doing on-line classes.  This week I did coursework on navigating change, and customer service.  I also started on a module about how to ask the right questions.

I started to organize my book shelves today, but only managed to get to two, but they are dusted, and neater, I guess.  And I carried home a bag of potting soil and gardening tools, so I can start some seedlings.  I haven't done it yet, but I have some time.  We've gotten our manure delivery, but the weather has turned cold and rainy, and I still have a lot of weeding to do in my actual garden.  I keep putting it off.  Definitely a need for the produce, though.

We have ants streaming in through the kitchen window, can never figure out what suddenly drives that, they aren't really going anywhere in particular.  I should go see what they're up to now.  And eat.

We are all in this together.  Be kind.  Wash your hands.  Keep your physical distance, but reach out to someone.