Day 136, self quarantine:
Tuesday, July 28, 2020
Woo, lots happening today.
Thank goddess Mercury is finally out of retrograde.
First, hockey pre-season starts today, unless someone on the Flyers tests positive between now and 4:00 tonight.
We should have an over/under pool.
“You excited?” I asked Gary.
“Not really. I mean, I’ll watch and everything. It’s on early, right? Because we need to watch Frontline at 10:00, it’s called The United States of Conspiracy and it’s all about Trump.”
I tried not to smile too condescendingly. I’ve been living with Trump 24/7 for almost four years and I’m exhausted beyond belief. To see Gary the political newbie so freshly indignant by all things Donald is adorable.
I’m no longer even a little bit shocked he’s throwing hockey over for politics, either, but assuming this aborted season actually has a Stanley Cup final and the Flyers are in it, I’m pretty positive pre-apocalypse Gary will make a return appearance.
Today is also the day Bill Barr testifies before the House Judiciary Committee.
😂😂😂😂😂😂
First of all, who really thinks he’s showing up?
😂😂😂😂😂😂
Who thinks if he shows up, he’s going to say anything earth shattering?
😂😂😂😂😂😂
Who thinks if he shows up and says something earth shattering, it won’t be an outrageous lie or conspiracy theory?
😂😂😂😂😂😂
Who among us isn’t going to start singing the Beatles’ I am the Walrus the minute Bill Barr does or does not start speaking?
“I am the egg man...they are the egg men...I am the walrus...goo goo g’joob.”
Okay, I’ll stop.
But I’m sorry, the dude is evil as hell AND resembles a walrus.
It’s my journal. I calls it as I sees it.
So what else is today?
Hockey, Frontline, Barr...maybe that’s it but the day is young.
Gary procured our bird feeders yesterday and I’m now officially a loony old lady birdwatcher.
Omg, I love it.
We had all kinds of visitors throughout the day. I got excited like a little kid.
When Lou swung by and sat on the buddha’s head, I completely lost it. It’s now my life’s mission to get a better picture than the one I posted in comments yesterday:
Gary is amused.
“You didn’t watch birds when you were a kid? What kind of childhood did you have?”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
“You know all about it, you were there for most of it. But aside from that, little girls in the early sixties didn’t bird watch. We did things like play with paper dolls and make potholders out of rags.”
“You did not,” Gary said.
“Ugh, I tried to enjoy stuff like that but I was a twisted child. Bird watching would have been a nice respite from pretending my bedroom was an apartment in someone else’s house. Or was that in France? I forget.”
“Pretty sure you told me it was the suburbs.”
Gary held up his arms to deflect my imaginary blow to his head.
“Well, whatever, I wasn’t even ten and I was already plotting my own place for a rendezvous with John, George and/or Paul.”
“Ringo must have been crushed,” Gary said, shaking his head.
“He looked too much like one of my relatives.”
Yep, we’re now bantering with each other, too, probably to keep from killing each other, dying of boredom, or both.
Yikes.
So yeah, birdwatching. Wow. I can unequivocally say, 100%, that birdwatching is something I never would have gotten into before quarantine.
Now, I’ve spent the last two days obsessed.
How about that.
If this apocalypse lasts much longer, I’ll be canning tomatoes and sewing a quilt.
Hmmm.
Oh well. For now I’m still a productive member of society suing people.
I’ll let Gary do the canning and sewing.
Okay, okay. Off I go.
And if you’re feeling blue today, remember, Lou is promising Donald’s resignation next month.
Have faith! 😎
