It's been two weeks since I went up the river to Hood River for my Johnson and Johnson shot. Aside from sleeping sixteen hours and spending the next day with a vague fever, I've recovered entirely and am now considered resistant to COVID-19.
The pandemic isn't over, but it's a huge weight off my shoulders knowing I likely won't die from it for now. Infection rates are up, so I'm not quite hitting parties. Some folks I know are. One invite that hit my inbox, for May 1st, had an invite list of one hundred and suggested breathing into each other's mouths.
I do believe I'll be washing my hair that day.
Meanwhile, life goes on in the city of Portland. I've got my first batch of cider bottled, back-sweetened, and hopefully not becoming a bomb. I've been experimenting with starting things from seeds, with mixed results: my basement tends towards colder than not, meaning I've had a die-off amongst the tomatoes. More things will be starts than not, but it's all a learning process. Likely next year I'll move that zone upstairs and into the office, which I can close off to keep warm.
Work remains satisfying but not exhausting: I've hit a year or two with the new boss, who remains supportive and enthused about me manipulating my schedule and locale as I see fit. I'm transitioning into a Researcher title soon, which has the job description of a PM but more of a focus on technical implementation. Same shit, different day - but this allows me to not be swept up in a company reorg that might end up with me focusing more on spreadsheets than the technical work I rather like.
This is also, potentially, a step down the road towards a future Architect role, which involves not just broad and deep knowledge, but a lot of writing chops. It's a big challenge, but I've gotten somewhat comfortable doing project management work, and could use a larger, less-defined hill to start walking up.