Day 152, self quarantine:
Thursday, August 13, 2020
For those of us still in quarantine, today is our five month anniversary.
Yay, us.
Happy like a Friday to me, after today I have four days off and I could not be happier.
Thursday, August 13, 2020
For those of us still in quarantine, today is our five month anniversary.
Yay, us.
Happy like a Friday to me, after today I have four days off and I could not be happier.
I’m still basking in the glow of Kamala and Joe.
Omg their speeches yesterday.
They came out to the music of Curtis Mayfield. My eyes started filling with tears at that!
They brought hope, they brought kindness, they brought reality and truth.
They also shined with intelligence and class.
Following along with the press and scholars on Twitter, I read glowing reviews.
For the first time in almost four years, I didn’t feel scared or embarrassed.
But then, an hour later, while Americans were still basking in their said glow, a severely mentally ill morbidly obese nitwit with likely dementia, wearing clown makeup and a yak wig, took to the podium and started slurring and farting and drooling.
He criticized Democratic governors for not lifting pandemic restrictions, saying they want to keep people in their houses, then describes houses differently: "In their prisons! They call 'em prisons."
“You always talk about Russia, Russia, Russia, China and Iran when it comes to the election, but your biggest problem is gonna be with the Democrats."
What does that even mean?
Who’s the one destroying the Post Office, Donald?
On children: “So few fatalities are among people under age 24. For this reason, it could be safer for them to live at school rather than live with their older parents or grandparents."
Yes, Donald, everyone should send their kids away to boarding school.
What the actual fuck?
Trump said he didn't watch the Biden-Harris event, just a moment, but it was enough, and he watched her tank in the primary and then "she left angry. She left mad."
Donald didn’t give any evidence of this but he loves to bring up the supposed anger of women, especially women of color.
That wasn’t even the worst of it.
Anyway, he bombed. He looked like a clueless imbecile on drugs, floundering and humiliating.
An old, defeated man, completely out of touch.
It was like being on a warm sunny beach with Biden and Harris when suddenly dark, insidious clouds rolled in, the sky opened up, and the day was ruined.
I don’t really care for the expression, but buckle up. The next five months are going to be INSANE.
Unless he resigns first.
Look for him to do it for medical reasons. When he realizes that he’s going to lose in a crushing landslide and all the cheating in the world won’t help him win, he’s going to try and save himself from disgrace and prison.
So who is CottonTop Mike’s running mate?
Smart money says Nikki Haley.
God forbid it could also be Ivanka or Junior.
You might think I’m crazy and no way, and you may be right, but nothing would be a more fitting twist ending in this goddamn reality gameshow we’ve been forced into.
You heard it here first.
Oy, enough of that.
How about those storms yesterday?
Haha, it was the first time I had to pull the “Hey, I’m working, you’re not” card with Gary.
I’ve been super conscious of not doing that. I would never want to make him feel bad, especially since I’m the one who made him retire.
Anyway, my paralegal assistant Jake gets nuts in thunderstorms and I had a buttload of work yesterday.
At the first sound of thunder, Jake jumped off of Julie’s bed and tried to jam himself under the desk where I was working, while shaking like a leaf.
He got caught up in the electrical cords to the printer and laptop and I was trying to keep him calm while holding the computer still so Jake didn’t send it crashing to the floor.
As I’m doing this I’m watching with horror as I got like 17 emails at once and then my cell phone rang and it was my least favorite client in the world. I hit “remind me later” on the phone and shrieked, “Gary! Gary! Help!”
So I guess this was around 3:00, Gary sheepishly appeared in the doorway, looking vaguely pissed because I interrupted him during Password.
“What’s up?”
“What’s up?! Do you not see the dog?”
I pointed to Jake, who was now trying to climb into the bottom drawer of Julie’s dresser, knocking down everything in his path while lightning and thunder cracked so loudly it sounded like it hit our house.
“C’mon, Gary, I have a shit ton to do. Please take him downstairs.”
Gary knew I wasn’t joking so he actually lifted Jake up and took him out.
But they didn’t go downstairs.
When I finally finished working two hours later, I found them both sound asleep and snoring in our bed.
It must be nice. 😜
So here’s something kinda funny. Dunkin’ is rolling out all of their pumpkin latte crap next Wednesday.
And all the stores will also be stocked with Halloween candy.
Apparently businesses all got together to make the fall season “longer” due to pandemic concerns.
I’m not really sure what that means, except to me, they’re cutting my summer short!
I haven’t even been to the beach yet this year and they want me to buy Halloween candy?
Okay.
I can do that.
Anyway, I still have a lot to do before embarking on my four day birthday celebration tonight, so I better head upstairs.
Talk to you on the flip side.
