Day 67, self quarantine:
I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we are approaching Memorial Day weekend.
See the gaggle of lunatics waiting in line in the photo? Normally, I’m one of them. Like every Sunday during the Memorial Day holiday weekend for the last thirty years. Sometimes I stand there waiting for over an hour, but those cinnamon sugar cake donuts are other worldly and so, so worth it.
Oh, well. Not this Sunday.
Nope, we’re going next Friday! I have off from work for some heretofore unknown Jewish holiday and Browns Donuts has curbside, no contact donut delivery!
You realize as the designated donut procurer for Casa Slick, Ocean City, by virtue of being the family member up at dawn, curbside delivery of warm cinnamon sugar Brown’s donuts is the culmination of a thirty year fantasy, right?
I once ate a dozen of those babies.
Hey, they’re tiny.
Okay, I’m a glutton. Whatever.
We’re not going to the beach this Sunday for a bunch of reasons. It’s still too freaking cold, I’m terrified of possible holiday crowds, and most importantly, we’re working in the yard.
Also we’re filling the window boxes with flowers. We were ecstatic to realize our local hardware store is super stocked with plants and herbs.
It’s the little things.
Especially during the apocalypse.
Sigh...oh well, this has to be a short post today. I’m in the weeds at work and need to head upstairs early. I promised my boss this Memo yesterday and played with it so much I lost all perspective and now I have to start fresh.
Ugh, I do the same with my personal writing, too, but at least with that I can put it away until I’m ready to look at it again.
Not so with a Mediation memo due yesterday.
Oh well.
This time next week, I’ll be 24 hours away from a Brown’s donut.
And a Manco and Manco pizza.
Oh, and some Tater’s handcut fries.
Probably Rauhauser’s chocolate, too.
Hey, I have to cover all of my top four food groups.
Oh god, okay, I’ll stop.
Onward.
