Day 129

Day 129, self quarantine:

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Gary and I watched the Phillies play the Yankees last night live on television for the first time in eight months. There were no fans in the stands and the players, coaches and umpires all wore masks and it was beyond weird.

Somebody please wake me up from this dystopian nightmare.  I promise I’ll never complain about anything ever again.

I swear.

I was still pretty fucking happy to watch that game, though.

I think Gary is feeling sad, too. I was really busy yesterday and didn’t even get the chance to have coffee with him but I did go downstairs for snacks I mean to check on him a few times, expecting to see him stretched out on the sofa watching Password.

The first time I walked downstairs, he was running the vacuum.

I immediately turned around and went back upstairs.  I didn’t want him to stop.  He does a much better job than I do.  I am an admitted half hearted vacuumer.

I did go back downstairs a half hour later to tell him how nice the living room looked.  I’m not stupid.

He was playing guitar and singing softly.

I snuck back upstairs.

But not before snapping a pic.

When I went downstairs  a third time, he was in the kitchen making coconut rice with roasted vegetables. There was a big bowl of warm lentil salad with mustard vinaigrette on the table.  

Fuck yeah.

This time I hung around.

So much for the smoothie/salad plan this week but I’ll do portion control.

I don’t know why I care, we’re all gonna die from coronavirus and/or Donald.

Oh, I’m kidding!  Jeez.

So yeah, Gary is the opposite of me when he’s feeling blue. He smartly gets active right away.  

That’s how I know when something’s up with him.

Conversely, when he’s on the sofa watching mindless television, he’s happy.

Or relaxed from something 😎

The reason I am active and clean the house on Saturday mornings is because I’m chill and in a good mood because Saturday.

Gary doesn’t understand that logic anymore than he understands someone sitting in bed with the covers up over “her” head in a tent when life gets too tough for her.

What, you don’t make tents to sit in when you’re depressed? Really?  

Man, if I could only figure out a pulley system to bring me snacks in there.

Anyway, whatever was bothering Gary passed. Television as usual commenced after coconut rice.

I think the longer this apocalypse continues, we’re going to have those moments of sheer misery where all we want is our lives back and we’re temporarily brought to our knees by everything that‘s happened. 

We’re just going to have to let that dream of our old lives die for now and try to build something new.

I’ll let you know when I figure out how and what but humor is key.

Seriously , we are going to be one fucked up nation of people with post traumatic stress disorder, huh.

Not sure what the answer will be for that, either.  For once I’m glad I’m old.

In other news, tomorrow I will have a tasty new song from Eric’s new record - it’s a duet with Natalie called “Closer to Heaven” and there’s also a video which I have not seen.

A reason to live another day.

So that’s good.

And with that, I’m off to draft some Interrogatories.

Don’t even ask.

Oh well, every day can’t be cookies.

Rock on regardless.