Q-Day 39: Easy Like Sunday Morning


Sunday morning and it’s like 30 degrees in Maryland. THIRTY DEGREES. Yesterday I lit the fireplace and left it on all day, and after dinner Todd said it was too hot upstairs. I turned it off but he disappeared downstairs to the pinball machine, where the dings and rings could be heard drifting up the stairs and Sabra came to me quivering. It’s scary when daddy plays pinball.

My week in the office is over. The coming week I’ll be working part-time hours Monday and Friday, and calling in for conference calls. Friday I got fed up with looking at Ryan from every direction so I printed out a Jason Momoa meme and hung it up next to the mirror:  “Hand washing tip: Wash your hands like you’re washing Jason Momoa”. Team B – you’re welcome.

So I went to the dentist and got a…. temporary filling. I know – WTF??? I was there maybe 25 minutes. They didn’t take my temperature or ask me any exposure questions. Again, WT— oh never mind.

Friday was International Haiku Day so I wrote one:

Vodka cranberry

Red cold as the planet Mars

Soothes my soul tonight

I have discovered the best time to shop is around 8 p.m. Fewer people shopping, and most of what I needed. Still no toilet paper, no flour, no sugar, and (very limited) meats. I’ve heard a rumor they’re coming for boxed hair color next. So ladies – if you’ve EVER considered it, NOW is the time. (And now that I’ve revealed some shopping secrets, don’t be an asshole and ruin it by telling everyone else, k?)

On that note, I don’t know if I mentioned that vanity won and I colored my hair last weekend. I only wear makeup from the bridge of my nose up, and that’s only on in-office days. I plucked a hair that was growing out of a mole on my arm that I didn’t know was there, and I found a single gray hair in my eyebrow (that one’s staying).

I woke up late this morning, late being 8:30, and Todd was showered and dressed with shoes on and moving with determined purpose. I watched him with one eyeball carry the standing lamp out of the bedroom and wondered what the hell he was up to now. He returned with a steaming cup of coffee for me.

What IS he up to, you ask? He’s moving artwork around the house and moving a dresser that doesn’t belong in our bedroom. And he’s redecorating his office. Again.

It’s a bit later now and temps are above 50. He’s talking about taking the beast out for a drive. That’s the car, not me.

There’s going to be a documentary on Carole Baskins’ missing husband, Don. I can’t wait. This is the level of entertainment I have come to.

One year ago yesterday I was in Chinatown on a field trip with V. One year ago I was worried about contracting a food-borne illness! Oh, ha ha ha.

Two years ago, Opac had his wisdom teeth out and it was awful. Two FB posts: “1:07pm – taking bets on how many times a teenager can say FML.” And “2:38pm – we are home. He’s in pain and absolutely miserable. Wants to die. Hates everyone responsible for it. I don’t know who has more stress hormones. Ima need a drink soon.”  Good times.

From the Rabbithole: Work – my computer wasn’t working (this is a recurring theme, btw). My only other coworker disappeared and people were piling up in the waiting room – a major social distancing failure. At some point I decided to just move everyone into exam rooms and check them in from there. But I ran out of rooms and so the overflow got seated at … booths in an area that looks like a large open restaurant. (And just now I realized that this is a major crossover event in my dream. What could it mean?) And now for the occult part…

The first exam room I went into was a dungeon and the patient was in a cage. Parents seated outside the cage. She’s some sort of changeling who turned into this ferret-like creature from the depths of hell with a blood-red mouth and long, sharp teeth, and was climbing up and down the wall backwards. I spoke calmly to her and she changed into a demure Asian girl who was afraid of her parents. She kept changing back and forth like a strobe light, out of self-defense.

Moving on…There were no computers in the exam rooms and so no one was getting checked in and people are waiting hours and they’re angry. (It’s called citalopram and it’s a very low dose.)

And now,  it is noon and Todd just walked in here and dared to say, “you’re still in the same place” and – because I am sensitive to his frustration at being quarantined, I didn’t return with a “so are you motherfucker.” Because #hesmyeverything and #helovesmeanyway.

Today’s stats:

Reading: On Writing, by Stephen King. (It’s really good.)

Paper supplies: Down to 6 rolls in the closet. I wasn’t worried, until now.

Hair: Colored, manageable. Todd – contemplating cutting his own hair. Opac – getting long on top, can look like a pompadour. I’m searching YouTube videos for haircutting lessons. What could go wrong?

What time O emerged from bedroom yesterday: 3:48 pm.

Today’s T-shirt: Another college shirt. Yesterday’s was green with a four-leaf clover and the word “Lucky” on it. I asked him if he was feeling lucky, and he glowered at me.

Random tidbits:

Today is National Garlic Day! Everything is better with garlic.

Violet Jessop survived three of the largest ocean liner disasters in history: The Olympic, which collided with a British warship; the Titanic, which hit an iceberg and sank; and the Britannic, which sank due to an unexplained explosion (a 2012 expedition found it to be a deep sea mine). And she kept working as a stewardess.

A Texas man was hospitalized in 2017 after shooting at an armadillo. The bullet ricocheted off the shell and hit him in the face. I shudder to think of what this man is doing in quarantine today.





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