Editor’s Note: While for many the following unfortunately is not the case, those in my world remain well and the experience of isolation, surreal for sure, has been an observation of human behavior. Whether it’s folks in denial while shopping without masks, or protesters defying social distancing on the steps of government buildings. Whether it’s reruns of the 1978 MLB season or Katy Perry’s wardrobe on American Idol At Home. The mind wanders. Hey, I just organized my sock drawer by color.
Is it strange I schedule my day around the evening news?
CENTRAL FLORIDA – Self-exile. We’d think I was an embattled Shah or Justin Bieber, but no. My county has stay-at-home orders with a broad definition of essential services. Only massage parlors, tattoo shops and barbers, the only true essentials, are closed. I’m simply home and working remote because I’m on the low end of the at-risk category and somebody out there loves me. But it hasn’t been without raised eyebrow.
The learning curve has been steep. And I’m either annoyed or hungry. Then again I’m always hungry. Bottom line? People are nuts. How anyone survived outside the womb is beyond me. Perhaps people survived childhood by eating paint chips, perhaps THEY were correct about fluoride in the water. No matter, everyone is nuts. And Dr. Anthony Fauci will save us.
Clothing. Or do the goldfish make me look fat?
I haven’t worn pants in six weeks. Not Terry Bradshaw full nude around the fish tank, but rather shorts versus jeans. And I’ve discovered cargo shorts can hold three dog leashes, collars and treats. Four unused environmentally friendly doggie poop bags. Seven used fabric sheets for the dryer. Two remote controls. One bottled water. Seven days of mail, and one Hunter S. Thompson paperback. A stapler, wrench and double-sided tape. One package of peanut butter crackers. Double A batteries, chicken bones and nail clippers. Did I mention I forgot how to tie my shoes?
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