Wednesday evening. Another step closer to the weekend, eh?

I spent a couple of hours at a nearby medical center, getting a clean bill of health (hopefully, anyway) ahead of what I expect to be my Express Entry invitation to apply for Canadian residence. It wasn’t quite as bad as I’d expected: there were few fellow patients, and almost all of them wore masks. The only cougher was a maskless old man, but then again, that might have been a wheeze after climbing the stairs. The medical battery consisted of the usual cursory blood pressure and lung check, a TB X-ray (it tickled), and a fair amount of blood taken out to test for HIV. (What happens to the applicants who test positive, I wonder…)

One of the people prodding me was an archetypal snarky old doctor:
“Are you married?”
“Good, that means you’re free.”


The results should get uploaded within a few days, and with any luck, the Express Entry drawing in a few days will get me to the final step of the process. With my 522 score, I should be a shoo-in, but you never know.

Things are getting worse in the US: some reports claim that 83% of Arizona’s hospital beds are occupied. There are over 2,000 active cases in Texas. Canada ain’t perfect either: a family gathering in BC led to 15 new infections. On the bright side, scientists in Copenhagen developed a vaccine that works on mice. It’s far, far too early to celebrate (unless you’re secretly a mouse reading this on a tiny mouse laptop), but that’s a step in the right direction.

And now to stream more Walking Dead to pass the time in this dystopia…