Quarantime

I don’t know what day it is.  I for sure don’t know what time it is.  I haven’t been outside of my apartment in days.  I don’t know who’s touched what or why anything or if I’ll ever have sex again.  The love of my life is somewhere out there and now I might never meet him because some dipf#$% ate a F#$%ING bat.  Are there rules anymore?  Who knows.  Let’s bring back stirrup pants and make blended margaritas after midnight.  Who even cares anymore?  No one’s going anywhere.  There’s no toilet paper, no touching, no congregating and no pants.  But don’t worry, everyone is going to be bilingual at the end of this.  Insert sarcastic thumbs up here.  The entire right side of my body is in pain and partially numb after trying to open a jar of coconut oil.   I tried everything.  I even got a swim cap out – nothing.  I was severely close to implementing a drill.  I worked myself into such a sweat I had to take a shower.  It remains unopened.  Mocking me daily from the counter.  Living that quarantine life so hard.  The term ‘batshit crazy’ has a whole new meaning.

Speaking of swim caps…(sigh)…the Olympics are postponed until next year and I’m pretty much devastated.  These poor athletes now have another year of training ahead of them and that is a huge deal.  The silver lining is I now get back to back Olympics.  I do wonder how this will affect their performances.  Especially taking into consideration the trials will now also be postponed which opens and closes that window of excellence for many.  You’re only fastest in your life once.  I obviously know this is the right move with everything going on, it just really sucks – mostly for the athletes.  Can you imagine training for four years only to be told you have to train for another year?  BATSHIT CRAZY!  It better be the most amazing opening ceremony ever of all time in the history of all Olympics.  They have a whole nother year to plan it.  Wow me Tokyo.  They should give medals for opening ceremonies – superlatives for motivation.  Cause there’s always that one part in the ceremony that obviously wasn’t rehearsed enough and it reminds you of your third grade Christmas recital.  Every time.  So for two weeks in August, someone is going to have to work really hard to fill this void that is now in my life.

I’m in a family group chat where I’ve watched grown men chug entire pitchers of beer, handles of vodka and cans of Chef Boyardee Raviolis.  THAT’S MY FAMILY!  They’re my idiots.  I went to gather some supplies for a virtual HH – that stands for Happy Hour for all you mutants out there who don’t know your alcoholic acronyms.  I figured I’d get an 18 pack so it would last longer.  Well…I woke up and there were 5 beers left.  Slow clap for me living my best Coors Light life.  But this is what’s happening with all of my food too.  Disappearing.  I see it.  I eat it.  And once I start eating, I don’t stop.  So I’m eating every other day now so I don’t turn into 8x the person I was when this all started.  At this point, I’m not only afraid to put my pants on, I don’t know if I can anymore.

My mom is home and safe from Africa.  Although I think she might’ve been safer there.  At least their borders have some kind of jurisdiction.  She went through customs at JFK – the Spirit Airline of Airports- after getting off a flight from Istanbul.  Not a single question.  No one asked where she’d been in the last 48 hours.  No temperature taken.  No mention of quarantine.  Nothing.  Which is borderline frightening (look at me with a pun) taking into consideration her temp was taken and she was put into immediate quarantine upon ARRIVING in Africa and that was weeks ago.  So WELL DONE BORDER PATROL.  Good work America.  You’re killing it.  And by it, I mean us.  Red, white and BOO.

I know it’s rough out there for a lot of you.  Many of us are facing difficult times.  If you need an ego boost,  I’m here for you.  (drumroll)  I was denied a job at Trader Joe’s.  No, I’m not kidding.  Yes, I really applied.  WE ARE HIRING ON THE SPOT!  WE NEED ALL THE HELP WE CAN GET!  Not you.  APPLY NOW FOR IMMEDIATE HIRE!  Anyone but you.  START TODAY!  So my self worth is through the roof right now.  We are in the middle of a worldwide pandemic and a GROCERY STORE won’t even hire me.  I’m basically the opposite of essential.  Do I not look like someone who could stock the shit out of some shelves?  You’re going to regret this Trader Joe.  Mark my words.  I’m gonna grow up and be something.  One day you’ll realize what you could have had!  That’s right buddy!  But you missed your chance.  I’d love to say I’m gonna boycott the place, but let’s be honest…I’m going to keep calling and texting until he realizes that I’m not like everyone else and falls in love with me like any main character in a Hallmark film would do.

Also – can everyone just stop being so surprised at the shit that comes out of Trump’s mouth?  You get so worked up about it and it’s like – yeah.  He’s still doing it.  He was doing it four years ago and he’s still doing it now.  What a surprise.  It’s like the girl who keeps complaining how awful her boyfriend is.  YEAH!  WE KNOW AUDREY!  We never wanted you to get with him in the first place.  But you didn’t listen to us, now we’re stuck with this bozo and here we are.  But you don’t.  You get all fired up about it like you don’t know he has an arsenal of more dumb things to say.  Then you gather your virtual pitchfork and go charging into the internet like some kind of quarantine crusader like THIS TIME it’s gonna matter.  It doesn’t matter.  It’s never going to matter.  Calm your blood pressure.  Your immune system, FRANKLY, doesn’t need the added stress.  Put your energy somewhere productive, somewhere good and kind and in love.  And if someone ever asks you a question you can’t answer, just tell them they’re terrible at whatever it is that they do.

It’s getting wild man.  We’re in uncharted territory.  Nobody knows what’s right or what to do.  Dear all celebrities:  stop trying to lure me in by saying you have a BIG ANNOUNCEMENT.  You don’t.  Is it the vaccine for the coronavirus?  Will it open parks again?  Will it restore our economy and bring me a paycheck?  Cause unless it’s that you’re paying my rent for me, and it’s not, I DO NOT CARE.  Also, nobody cares.  As crazy as this is and as crazier as it’s about to get, I will NEVER watch your instagram live video.  EVER.  I take that back…UNLESS you’re Carol Burnett.  For you, I would move mountains and you can do whatever you want and I would support you.  I will be your alibi, I will be your cheerleader, I will do murder for you.  Tell me what the bang and I will bang it.  You are perfect and I’m sorry you have to live through this.  It’s all Batman’s fault – which makes it Michael Keaton’s fault.  That’s the logic many people are living by which I discovered after scrolling through social media yesterday.  Looking at you, Karen.  Some of you need to get it together.   Meanwhile, I’ll be holding auditions for a quarantine boyfriend.  All he has to do is throw a cupcake through my window every day at noon.  No other communication is necessary.  Ever.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go look in my fridge for the 37th time today.  Xx

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