Patreon & coronavirus: 'Look, I understand...'

I said something similar to this in my FIMFiction blog a while back.  But I didn't post it here, and so there's a chance that some of you didn't see it.  So I just put it up as a new blog entry, separate from all other content -- and I'm posting it here as well.  So that there's a chance every sponsor sees it.

So.  Directly.

It's okay if you have to drop your pledge level.

It's okay if you have to leave for a while.

I get it.

A lot of us aren't working right now.  If you don't have an income, then you sure don't have disposable income.  And that's what sponsoring fanfic is:  disposable income.  You need to use what you have to take of yourself first.  Your own needs, your own family, and so on down the line.

I come last.  And that's after using a lot of nerve to assume I was anywhere near the list.

The only thing I'm asking is this:  just tell me first.  Because seeing the totals drop out of nowhere is always going to sting, and knowing what's going on takes some of that away.

This is a rough time, and pain echoes.  Some of you may have small businesses, and your terror is that there may not be anything left when the chance to reopen comes again.  Others can't work from home.  A few are likely classified as essential workers, and you're out there on the front lines every day.  Risking your life in the face of this pandemic.  And so many have children, spouses, family depending on them.

For my part...  being a caregiver means I'm the one doing the shopping.  But I try to be careful.  (The main problem is equipment.  I managed to order some low-quality facial covers -- arriving before the end of the month, I hope -- but the gloves won't ship for weeks.  And I jokingly set my Ko-Fi goal as 'N95 mask', then even more jokingly didn't make the goal number into $1,000,000 each.)  What scares me isn't getting sick myself:  it's the chance of infecting her, because when it comes to potential death, she is the high-risk group:  respiratory problem and on an immunosuppressant.  And whenever I do go out, because of the way this virus works...  I can't know if I did everything right for two weeks.  An ever-moving window waiting to slam across someone's throat.

But that doesn't make me a doctor, constantly exposed.  A cashier, seeing an endless parade of 'Maybe' passing before them.  A police officer...

I'll get by.

Look after yourselves.

There's only one of you.

And we are all endangered species.