Day 103, self quarantine:
I love Thursdays. Especially in the summer. Psychologically, the worst of the week is behind me and the shiny happy weekend is on the horizon.
I’m kind of freaked out next Friday is July 4 weekend. How the hell did that happen?
I love Thursdays. Especially in the summer. Psychologically, the worst of the week is behind me and the shiny happy weekend is on the horizon.
I’m kind of freaked out next Friday is July 4 weekend. How the hell did that happen?
I dunno but I will be soaking up the sun in my own backyard.
So as I’m sure you heard, yesterday was the worst day for coronavirus, with 42,000 cases recorded in one day and frightening surges in major U.S. cities.
The spikes are coming in cities where they didn’t wear masks or self quarantine.
I want Trump to be infected in the worst way. You know what? I think it’s going to happen.
I hope he screams I CAN’T BREATHE.
Yes, I really do.
I am now 100% comfortable with my decision to remain quarantined indefinitely.
Like, until there’s a vaccine.
I’m not even joking a little bit.
I will venture outside for a very occasional meal at an outdoor cafe but I will not go anywhere there is recirculated air.
I have zero problem staying home through 2021.
And really, Quarantine Gary is my favorite person in the universe.
Last night after dinner, I grabbed the remote to put on the Daily Show - we tape it every night because what old person can stay up until midnight - and Gary shouted, “Wait, what are you doing?”
Huh?
“It’s Trevor Noah time,” I said.
“It’s 7:00. We’re not going to watch Jeopardy?”
I mean, I couldn’t even answer. I just stared at him.
My life is now every sitcom where the lead character accidentally gets whacked in the head, passes out, and wakes up a completely new person.
I liked the old Gary but this one is off the charts.
He didn’t forget how to cook, though.
Last night, I couldn’t decide what to have for dinner. We had some leftover great bread and gorgeous tomatoes and I was thinking of something pasta again.
Gary may be the chef but I’m usually the one with the ideas.
“I’m gonna make panzanella tonight,” Gary said.
Ooh.
He sure did.
The photo doesn’t do it justice.
The chew of great bread, tomatoes that burst with sugar, fresh herbs from Gary’s garden, and really good olive oil.
Omg.
I could eat different variations of this salad every night this summer. I think we should throw in some fresh corn next time for crunch. Traditionally, they aren’t made with cheese but we always add it so it’s kinda like a merge of caprese and panzanella, and I see the New York Times is also on board with our recipe. We don’t use onions. We do use cucumbers - not sure if the NYT does but I think they’re integral.
You can thank me later 😎
So that’s it for today. My boss is on vacation next week so this is crunch time. I’ve been busting my ass all week so he can relax stress free.
Though I admit to an ulterior motive.
“When’s your getaway day?” I asked him yesterday.
Say Friday. Say Friday.
“Sunday,” he said.
Boo.
Instead, I laughed.
“I’m gonna try and have you ready to leave Thursday night,” I said pointedly.
Yeah, that’s right. Quarantine Robin is a brave motherfucker.
Besides, it’s going to be sunny and 89 degrees Friday. I wanna catch some rays in the Slick Apocalypse Garden.
“Okay,” said my very kind boss.
Let’s see if I can pull it off. I have a shit ton to do.
Starting now.
Later, gators.
