Day 120, self quarantine:
How is it Sunday already? How is my three day weekend going so fast?
Good thing I have another one coming up this week.
So yeah, everything is horrible.
How is it Sunday already? How is my three day weekend going so fast?
Good thing I have another one coming up this week.
So yeah, everything is horrible.
There’s 1,000 new cases in PA this morning.
And the press is falling all over themselves because the orange turd finally wore a mask yesterday.
He wore it to a fucking hospital so HE wouldn’t get sick, following a night where he made the extremely unfortunate choice to commute the prison sentence of a fellow criminal pal who threatened to flip on him IN BROAD DAYLIGHT if he didn’t, AND HE NEEDED A FUCKING PHOTO OP.
Even the Washington Post bought in.
I’m so disgusted this morning.
I want out of this country but guess what, it’s too late, everyone has closed their borders to us.
We’re stuck here with a raging madman who doesn’t care if we die.
As Julie remarked yesterday, we’re lepers.
Donald Trump has turned the United States of America into a leper colony.
Think about it.
Look at him in that mask.
He looks like an angry top forced to be a bottom.
Or a mental patient.
Okay, I’m done.
Seriously.
So what’s everyone doing today?
I am about to wake Gary for our bimonthly in and out at Trader Joe.
We’re in the mood for a decadent brunch today and inspired by a friend who asked for fresh spinach recipes, we’re having soft scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese stirred in.
One of my favorite meals.
“Ooh, can you make biscuits, too?” I asked my personal chef.
“I thought that was a given,” Gary said. “What kind do you want? Sweet almond, cheddar pepper, or original plain?”
What, I can’t have all three?
I’m going for sweet almond. I love the mix of salty and sweet when I eat.
Wah! Whenever Julie and I went out to brunch, one of us would get a salty dish and the other something like over the top pancakes and we’d split both.
Memories.
Brunch at Parc with both kids comes to mind.
Oy. Why am I doing this to myself?
Okay, I’ll stop.
Hey, but if this journal is to reflect what’s going on during the pandemic, I have to be honest.
And Gary can duplicate anything on Parc’s menu while I FaceTime with the kids if I’m that desperate.
I’m not.
Okay, I’m going to get dressed for my big car ride to Trader Joe’s.
I really have nothing else to say except:
May your Sunday be peaceful and filled with happiness.
