Grand Slam Communication
Everyone is talking about Tiger King.
So I started to watch it.
I immediately determined that I lack the proper level of Quarantine Desperation necessary for this show.
I have started a concurrent binge of Prodigal Son and True Detective.
These are both really good stories.
I’ll keep Tiger King on the back burner.
If The Husband and I can ever be bothered to have a Quarantine Fight, I’ll watch Tiger King with the volume way up high.
Just to annoy him
What else will make you crazy during social isolation?
The Grown Son has been staying with us.
He is working from home.
My home.
He huffed in objection when I asked him to pick up his mountain of crap so I could sweep the floor.
“But we’re on quarantine,” he objected.
“My standards are not on quarantine,” I informed him.
He moved his stuff.
I swept.
He was annoyed.
Whatever.
Day whatever of the quarantine.
I took a Buzzfeed quiz.
I found out that the first name of my soulmate starts with G.
Bob risked his life and good health to go on a TP run to Walmart.
The shelves were cleared out.
But for a good reason.
There was a guy standing behind a counter doling out one package per customer.
That’ll work.
Next, Bob checked out the beer aisle.
There appeared to be no shortage.
He brought home a LOT of beer.
We are now well prepared for this quarantine.
We binge watched Chernobyl last night.
What else is there to do except binge watching during the quarantine?
I’m not sure it was such a good idea to watch a show about an apocalypse while we are in the midst of an apocalypse.
Tonight we’ll binge on comedy.
I am so glad that my kids are grown.
I would not be surviving the quarantine if they were small.
One of them is perpetually cranky.
And the other is perpetually bouncy.
It’s not a good quarantine combo.
I feel bad for the stuck-at-home parents.
But there’s nothing I can do about that.
Because, you know, social distancing…
We’re in the midst of an international health crisis.
We’re quarantined.
We’re on house arrest.
And there’s no toilet paper to be purchased anywhere.
But still, it’s my mama’s birthday.
And we have a tradition.
She’s been gone nearly ten years, but I still make her favorite dinner on her birthday.
There’s no reason to stop now.
We’ll have chicken tetrazzini tonight.
Happy birthday Mom.
I miss you every day.
Both of the Grown Sons have type one diabetes.
They are at high risk for coronavirus.
Of course I am worried.
One of them has come home to endure his social isolation with us.
He’s been working remotely.
Cabin fever has set in because he hasn’t left his apartment in ages.
It looks like he’s going to stay with us for awhile.
He brought some food from his place.
This makes me very happy.
Not that we need the supplies.
But it shows me that he shops.
And keeps fresh food in his apartment.
If only he had brought some toilet paper.
I have a cold.
No, it’s not coronavirus.
No, it’s not the flu.
I sent Bob out last night to get some Nyquil.
I was worried that the stores would be cleared out of cold medication.
Bob had no problem finding me what I needed.
Plus some ice cream because it was on sale.
I find it odd that people are stocking up on toilet paper.
But not on cold medicine.
If things get bad around here, maybe we can barter with our Nyquil.
I got up at 4:00 o’clock this morning.
Which is really 3:00 because of the time change.
Am I happy about this?
I am not.
It is going to be a very long and very, very cranky day.
However, it will still be sunny well into the evening.
But maybe not.
I haven’t decided.
I’m still mad about getting up at 3:00 am.