Oops!
I feel a little silly because I just learned that in lock-down we are
restricted to our apartments. I thought we were confined to our beds.
I’m
so bored that I am considering watching the popular series, Tiger King.
I’m sort of saving that one, though, like the last can of pork and beans in my
pantry, or whatever the canned food equivalent of the series may be.
I
swear that when this is all over, I'll never wash my hands again. It is going
to end, right?
Many
pundits are comparing this to a war. The old adage says that the first casualty
of war is truth, but in my case personal hygiene and grooming dropped dead when
the first shot was fired. How good do I have to look when the closest humans
are on the balcony across the street? I'm saving a fortune on deodorant and
shampoo. Add to this the fact that my total bar tab for the past 11 nights was
exactly zero, and I think I'll come out ahead on this thing.
The next fatality in this war seems to be my taste in movies and
books. The only immunity I seem to have developed is for shitty movies I
normally wouldn’t poke with a very long stick (Did you know that there is a
Lethal Weapon 4?). I also NEVER pass around “viral” videos but have done this
on two occasions since I’ve been in lock-down. I don’t know if this reflects my
reduced mental capacity because of the forced isolation, or the videos were
particularly worth sharing. I’ll let you decide.
I
had completely forgotten how much it sucks to be grounded. I really hate my
parents. And if you have teenage children, how do you punish them when they’re
already under house arrest?
I looked over my balcony and saw that people were lining up for
the supermarket an hour before they opened. I looked again and I realized that
they didn’t know that it now opens an hour later than normal so they had left.
I really, really hate long lines and I’d rather resort to survival conditions
along the lines of H.M.S Endurance before I stand in a hellish line. I will
need food in the next 3-5 days, or I can just drop that ten pounds I’ve been
meaning to lose. I’m low on coffee filters, so fuck it, I have to deal with it.
Shackleton and his crew probably didn’t run out of coffee filters.
I’m
hoping they will ease up on the rules to allow outdoor exercise. I would be
fine if I could get out and ride my bike every day, something that would make
this seem more like a true vacation instead of house arrest. I have a pull-up
bar at home which is OK, but it’s no substitute for the little outdoor park I
visit three days a week that has a sort of prison yard feel to it where I can
compare myself to the teenage punks who work out there. Still haven’t decided
on which gang to join.
The
important thing to remember is that Trump has “a good feeling” about finding a
vaccine. He’s assigned a team of crack scientists from Trump University to
achieve this objective.
Does
it mean that I’ve hit rock bottom when I realize that I’m too slovenly even for
the task of taking out my garbage, or am I still in the downward spiral
screaming towards rock bottom? I’m just going to wait until it gets dark.
Daylight savings changed today, so it’s going to be a while. Whatever, it beats
getting cleaned up.
On
social media, my sister was yearning for the day when she can go again for a
manicure/pedicure. I suggested a service that could address these needs based
on existing technology: the bus station gloryhole.
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