**Tiger King spoilers below
In-office week. I fully expected a bleary, mundane last two days, but work was steady. Not busy, just steady. Except for the final two and half hours Monday evening. I tried to keep busy with menial tasks while listening to the shitshow they called a White House Briefing.
Yesterday not one family coming in for well-baby checks wore a face covering. A strange coincidence, especially since the county is under mandatory in-public-face-coverings rules and we’ve been calling families to remind them of our restrictions. The grocery store in MY state now has all employees wearing masks and I’m seeing more folks in my town wearing them too. I’d say it’s about f***ing time.
To anyone concerned about how this might affect the timing of next year’s well visit due to many insurances’ 365-days between physicals policy – please don’t ask me what insurance companies are going to do. First, I don’t have a crystal ball and, second, I don’t work for them. Just like I can’t tell you when life will return to normal. Read my lips – no one fucking knows.
There are now TEN… TEN! pictures of Ryan Gosling posted in the staff bathroom. Really, looking into his eyes does not make me feel better. I feel like his eyes are following me in there and that is NOT a relaxing experience. Besides, who can take a deep breath with a mask on?
Our Quest lab guy came in last night and commented on my “new hairstyle;” I gave him my best scowl with my eyes. My “new hairstyle” – pulled back in a tiny ponytail with the short hairs that don’t reach sticking out in all directions thanks to the face mask and my headset. I never made fun of his Colonel Sanders goatee before he shaved it off. At least not right away. (No worries – we’re friendly and busting is okay.)
Today’s my day off and I get to spend it having a filling replaced. I DO NOT want to go. Not because no one likes having a filling, but because – RISKS. I’m sure they’re taking all the precautions, but THEY’RE not the ones with their mouths wide open like a baby bird waiting to catch the virus worm. I’m not gonna lie, I’m legit worried. At least I did my hair today.
My husband is handsome, intelligent, hilariously funny, and talented… but he’s easily among the most oblivious persons in the world. He finally (two days later) noticed that there are no Jolly Ranchers, but has not noticed a single Easter egg. Which is scary, since there’s one in the refrigerator he’s in several times a day, one in the silverware drawer, and at least one other one he should have seen by now when he’s looking out the bay window. There are a couple of emojis that apply here.
And, because it is day 3, I’m going to have to lead the horse to water. Opac and I have been uncharacteristically patient and we’ve reached the end of that road. It’s no fun if the victim isn’t playing.
Silverfox is getting himself into trouble on Facebook. He has said that “the gloves are off,” and he’s been taking no prisoners. He got into a tiff in a thread he didn’t even start because the guy commenting is a “fucking moron.” The thing started nine hours before I got home from work. So what do I do? Fix myself a vodka cranberry and jump in.
Results? I got the guy to be nice to me AND apologize to Silverfox. (Admittedly, I went in with guns blazing, my heart pounding and ready to take out the asshole who dared to threaten my dad.) I texted him about it and told him to stop calling people names because I’m the only one left who isn’t on blood pressure medication and I aint starting now. Time will tell.
I’m determined to keep this blog mostly upbeat, informative and – I hope – entertaining. I will try keep politics out of it. We all know what’s going on – generally speaking – and I don’t want to add to the schizophrenic noise. (*side note: I think we can all agree that aforementioned briefing was a shitshow, no matter which side you’re on. So I stand by that assessment. That is all. Carry on.)
Speaking of shitshows, I think Carole killed Don. Not sure what she did with him but I believe she had something to do with it. She spent way too much time ‘splaining on her website, in the lengthiest rebuttal to the Netflix show any intelligent, upright, inculpable person wouldn’t have bothered to waste more than a brief statement on – see link below. Also, I think Joe is a train wreck who can’t shut the fuck up and is guilty of a lot of things … but I’m not 100% sure murder-for-hire is one of them.
Another thing quarantine has changed: reassessing everything based on potential injury. Yardwork, housework, eating hard candies, wearing socks on hardwood floors, shaving my legs in the shower, running outside, running inside, wearing a T-rex costume with limited visibility on a windy day, eating junk food, eating anything that might cause diarrhea, drinking and Facebooking. The risks are real, people.
From the Rabbithole: I was on an airplane that burst into flames and I watched the flames snake their way towards the cabin and my legs before I woke up. (Just so we’re clear – all the drugs I take are legal.)
*Silverfox gets credit for today’s title.
None worth reporting except…
Number of times I got annoyed with interruptions: 11
Today’s T-shirt: Philadelphia Eagles
With no further explanation I offer these random tidbits:
Carole Baskin’s rebuttal was over 4,000 words long. You can read it here .
Stephen King tries to write six pages a day. He also has a book, On Writing, that’s in my to-be-read pile.
The Committee of Five – Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston – wrote hundreds of copies of the Declaration of Independence. Only 26 copies survive and 3 of those are privately owned.
An employee at the New York Times wrote the wrong serial number on an edition in 1898. This typo wasn’t caught until 1999… a typo for over 100 years.
I have been writing this particular post for 10 hours, and have been interrupted a dozen times by everyone but Sabra. Therefore, I take no responsibility for grammar, content, or typos.
2 thoughts on “Q-Day 35: Word Salad”
You are amazing. Keep these coming.
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I don’t expect life to return to normal…..I want better. You express the malaise of this gaslighting that things return to normal beautifully.
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