Day 215

 

Day 215, self quarantine:

Thursday, October 15, 2020

Okay, this week is freaking flying.

Yesterday I started doing one major project early that I knew would take a few hours and had to go out ASAP but then I got the “Omg you have to draft a Motion that has to be filed today, I’m on the road, email it to me and I’ll pull over and review it so you can efile it” hysterical phone call from my boss and then in the middle of that insanity, all taking place while wearing my new hot pink pajamas in Julie’s funky purple bedroom, I got another phone call from one of the firm’s New York partners who wanted to discuss my “status.“

Good times, people.

Actually, everything worked out.

You guys already know my status.  I shared it with him. 😜

Anyway...

Whenever I am rattled, I can get stuff done like I just walked out of a meth lab.

Nervous energy, man.

I aced everything.

And yeah, I had zero time to look at the news.

Welp, I did check Twitter briefly last night and it was all too much.

Luckily I’ve got another insane work day today and I am so here for that.  Losing myself in complex litigation is actually awesome right now and who the hell am I and what have I done with Robin?

Yeah, I can’t deal with Judge Handmaid or Dancin’ Donald and his Covid cooties.

Which covid cooties could be a lie, who the hell knows?

Who cares.

Hopefully it’s almost over.

Not his cooties, which he’ll always have, but his presidency.  

And if you still support him, please die.  

Painfully.

So in other news, I sent Gary out to buy gourds.

Here’s why my quarantine partner is better than your quarantine partner.

He came home with bags of Almond Joys, Rolos, Reeses, Mounds, and Heath Bars.

“They sell candy at Produce Junction?” I asked skeptically.

“ I went to Target,” he said.

“Gary, they don’t sell gourds at Target.”

“I know,” he grinned.

I looked at all the candy.  Even though I am a chocolate snob who likes imported stuff from Europe, he bought all my favorite junk stuff.  

Like, all of it. 

“I can’t believe you got this.  I thought we agreed we’re not giving out candy this year,” I said weakly.

Yes, being around this amount of chocolate makes me weak.

You got a problem with that?

“We’re not giving candy out this year, Rob! That’s for you!”

Omg, heart be still.

Naturally I’ve already torn through half the bag of Rolos.

I’m such an addict.  

Holy hell, if it tastes good or makes you feel good and it’s bad for you, you can be sure I’ll get addicted to it.

Gary, too.

We need several twelve step programs just to function but hey hey, whatever works, at least we’re 100% dysfunctional together.

And I dig the twelve steps.

I am pissed I don’t have gourds, though, but I found a contact free garden center that also sells blackberry bushes and small potted evergreen trees which attract birds in the winter, and they also have bushels of apples and pumpkins and you know we are so going there.

If I’m not in a diabetic coma by then.

Which could happen if I don’t hide this candy somewhere.

Sigh...

Alrighty, I’m off to paralegal world.

Happy Thursday.

Day 214

 

Day 214, self quarantine:

Wednesday, October 14, 2020

Haha, here’s yesterday’s “waiting for Gary outside Trader Joe’s” portrait.

Woo, I am so busy this week in paralegal world I really didn’t have much time to look at the news or Twitter yesterday.

I’m relieved.

I think I’m going to allow myself to fall asleep on the plane, people.

Nothing I say or do is going to stop whatever’s going to happen.

I accept that now.

Though I did text Eric, “If Donald wins, I’m immediately deleting all of my social media so I’m not among the first arrested.”

Eric replied, “Good idea.”

Yeah, it’s come to that.

Surreal, huh.

That sight of him so fucking giddy, doing the jig and spreading his cooties for a bunch of hideous racists in Florida was bone chilling. 

The only other time he smiles like that is when he sees Putin.

Yeech, even thinking about him briefly makes me gag.  That’s some superpower you’ve got there, Donald.

Okay, I’m done.

So yeah, I’m really happy to be able to retreat to paralegal world.  Too funny, I’ve been realizing my attitude is changing. Now that I know I can retire this morning if I want to and I had a long heart to heart with my boss, I’m real chill at my job and I’m enjoying myself.

It’s nice to be somewhere because I want to be.  And right now that’s in my daughter’s former bedroom wearing pajamas doing legal stuff during the day, because it includes a lot of writing and is taking me totally out of my head.

But talk to me again after the election is decided.😎

In other news, I’m trying to be low key about this but on Monday I got a text from Eric.

“Are you open to us coming up for Thanksgiving?”

WUT?! 

YA THINK?!

IS A PIG’S ASS PORK?

Ahem, yes, we would be open to that, Eric.

Gary and I spent all last night on the menu.

It’s going to be incredible.

Look, we’re also realistic. There’s six weeks between now and Thanksgiving, we’re in an incredibly volatile time in this country between the election and Covid-19, and a lot could happen where Thanksgiving doesn’t happen at all.

Trust me, after seven months of quarantine, we’re used to major disappointment and the bottom line is engraved on our hearts, brains and souls.

As long as everyone stays healthy, we’ll get through this.  

To quote George Harrison, All things must pass.

But for now, it sure is fun to plan Thanksgiving dinner like everything is normal.

I just got this crazy Hogan’s Heroes scene typing that for some reason.

Oy.

Don’t mind me, I’m old and weird.

Clearly I should put down my phone.

Okay.

Time to go upstairs and sue an evil corporation.  

Happy Wednesday.

Day 213

 Day 213, self quarantine:

Tuesday, October 13, 2020

Woo hoo, today marks seven months in quarantine!

Yay.

I know I said I wasn’t going to go there but I lied.

FUCK THIS NOISE.

I’ve had just about enough.

I can’t believe anyone wouldn’t be in favor of a total shutdown at this point and a federal mask mandate, including federal economic help for everyone.

WE HAVE BEEN QUARANTINED FOR SEVEN MONTHS WITH NO PLAN AND THE VIRUS IS GETTING WORSE.

And then we have Donald, who hosted a super spreader event last night in Florida and said, "They say I'm immune. I feel so powerful. I'll walk into that audience, I'll walk in there, kiss everyone in that audience. I'll kiss the guys and the beautiful women.”

Ew ew ew.  If he ever kissed me, I would have to disinfect my entire body and after that I would need a way to wash out my brain.

Then he added, "It's risky. It's risky, but you gotta get out.”

Yeah, especially if you have a private helicopter and access to the best doctors and drugs in the world.

Donald is out of his fucking mind.

So he’s going with herd immunity?  Even though hundreds of thousands could die between now and January? And this is totally fine?

The government is okay with this?

Is everyone in government insane?

Rhetorical question.

I don’t know what to think anymore.

I know one thing.  I clearly need more Halloween candy.

I need to enjoy life again, even if I am a prisoner living in a leper colony in a dictatorship.

I also want to decorate this place with pumpkins and gourds and shit.

Why not, right?

Might as well have happy surroundings.

Okay, tomorrow I really will stay away from the news.  It’s just too toxic but I feel the need to record what happened yesterday.

But yeah, no news today.

It will be easy, I can’t bear to read about Judge Handmaid, anyway.

So I guess that’s it for this morning. I’m exhausted already.

I can’t wait to tell Gary he’s going gourd shopping today, though.

Luckily after a hundred years he’s used to me.

Enjoy your Tuesday.

Day 212

 

Day 212, self quarantine:

Monday, October 12, 2020

Yeesh, what a crap weekend.  It started out with an old acquaintance freaking out at me in Facebook comments, segued into an unrelated two day argument with my husband, and ended with the usual overeating of all things carbs and sugar.

I’m actually looking forward to being Robin Slick, paralegal today
and escape from the news and Gary.

Is it November 3 yet?

We’re pretty tense here at Casa Slick.

And a little terrified.

Anyway, I’m going to try not to be Debbie Downer between now and November 3, so let’s move on or it’s going to be a long three weeks.

I’m starting to think I should also turn off the television.

The political ads are making me nuts.

The sound of Donald’s voice, the sight of him, make me unbearably nauseous.

And I feel like if we just listen to music for the next three weeks, Gary and I will be in a much better place.

We’re both tentative and tender around each other following our mondo argument Saturday night.  I put my phone down most of the day yesterday and glared at Gary every time he smoked. 😎

Just kidding.  It’s all good.

So yeah, Gary destressed by going into the kitchen and making amazing roasted vegetable rice for dinner and we had pumpkin pie and ice cream for dessert and by the time we went to sleep we were well fed and relieved we managed to be civil to each other. A quarantine disaster was diverted.

So because we had our grand argument into Sunday morning, we didn’t do our much needed monthly seniors shopping  Trader Joe trip and now we’re out of coffee so even though it’s a work morning, we’re getting dressed and going out now so I can be back home and in my pajamas, signed into the office by 8:30 a.m. and omfg there are so many things weird about that statement I don’t know where to start.

Ugh, I so don’t want to go.

You better believe I’m getting cake.

I gotta be rewarded for this.

Ew, and it’s pouring out, like life isn’t grand enough on a Monday morning.

Fuck it, I’m keeping my pajamas on.  No one will know.

Fuck it, I’m getting cake and more pie.

And ice cream.

Does Trader Joe sell Halloween candy?

If not, they should.

If they do, I’m so buying it.

Speaking of pie, that’s another thing I love about autumn.  

Meanwhile, I can’t believe the Food Network is already advertising the Holiday Baking Championship and holy moly, it starts in three weeks.

November 2.

I just can’t.

I used to love all those stupid shows.

Now they’re just stupid shows.

Yeah, I’m gonna listen to music.

Happy Monday!

Day 211

 Day 211, self quarantine:

Sunday, October 11, 2020

So I was going to just say “no post today” because honestly, Gary and I had an argument that started at midnight and carried over into this morning and I’m exhausted.

I mean, it didn’t last all night, I stormed off to bed and he didn’t follow so I fell asleep and he came up whenever.

We rarely have blowouts and we have a policy of never going to bed angry but oh well, shit happens.

You should have seen Jake.  Omg, he looked so stricken.  We rescued Jake when he was almost two because he was in a home with a bitter divorce and he literally sat with his head down, cowering.

He’s not used to that with us.

The reason I tell you this is just to say we are normal, we’re human, we’ve been stuck indoors with each other for 2/3 of a year, and the argument was over something stupid but then you know what happens, once you start yelling, you get to the real grievances.

Gary thinks I’m on my phone too much.

I think Gary smokes too much.

You know what?

We’re both right.

In the end, we both agreed to cut back on our vices, but honestly, we also need to cut each other some slack. We’re in a freaking pandemic.  What we’ve been going through since March is unbelievable.  

So that’s today.

We’ve patched things up and we’re listening to @wxpn radio because the dj tweeted to Eric he’s playing his song.

Now if I wasn’t on my phone, I wouldn’t have seen that, but...

Never mind.  I don’t have to win every argument.

In fact, I’m going to start putting my phone down so Gary will cut down on smoking.

I have my priorities straight.

Happy Sunday!

Day 210

Day 210, self quarantine:

Saturday, October 10, 2020

I’m too angry to write.

My Facebook page is my cyber house.  If you don’t like me, don’t visit.

And don’t tell me what to write about.

Someone just suggested I stick to music.

Wouldn’t I love that, but Donald Fucking Trump ended music in 2020.

Think I’m being dramatic?

Talk to all the musicians, venue owners, bartenders, tech people, and roadies out of work and losing everything because this unfit, incompetent INSANE president mismanaged both the pandemic and the stimulus package.

My kids haven’t worked all year.

You don’t like what I have to say?  Unfriend me.  

It’s easy.

Happy fucking Saturday.

 

Day 209

 Day 209, self quarantine:

Friday, October 9, 2020

John Lennon would have been eighty today.

I can’t wrap my brain around that.

I’ve outlived him by decades.

Those of you who grew up with the Beatles might understand but John Lennon was my “influencer.”  Gary’s, too.

We didn’t believe in politics or religion but John Lennon was the closest thing either one of us had to a hero.

We were John and Yoko as teenagers, inseparable and walking hand in hand, protesting the war in Viet Nam and marching for equal rights for everyone.

The Imagine album came out our first year of college.

“Love is Real” is engraved in our wedding rings.

His music still sounds fresh and relevant over fifty years later.

We learned of John’s death from Howard Cosell while laying in bed watching Monday Night Football.

https://youtu.be/mdJcoJUT12M

We thought we heard wrong.

It couldn’t be true.

Gary put on our local rock radio station. Surely they would tell us this was a hoax.

They were playing John Lennon music.

We looked at each other in horror.

John’s death was a turning point.

Ronald Reagan was inaugurated one month later.

You know the rest.

And now we have a psychopath in the White House, a man so deranged the Speaker of the House is forced to hold a press conference this morning regarding his fitness for office just 25 days before the election.

Damn do I wish John was alive today to deal with Donald.

“Shut up, man” would be the nicest thing he said.

Seriously, Donald’s twitter feed should be required reading this morning.

Maybe then you would understand why I am screaming for his removal.

You may have heard about the white supremacists arrested yesterday following a plot to violently kidnap the Governor of Michigan and try her for treason.

They were inspired by Donald’s “Liberate Michigan!” tweet.

Donald, whose only re-election platform is LAW AND ORDER, had this response following the arrest:

“Governor Whitmer of Michigan has done a terrible job. She locked down her state for everyone, except her husband’s boating activities. The Federal Government provided tremendous help to the Great People of Michigan. My Justice Department and Federal Law Enforcement announced ...today that they foiled a dangerous plot against the Governor of Michigan. Rather than say thank you, she calls me a White Supremacist—while Biden and Democrats refuse to condemn Antifa, Anarchists, Looters and Mobs that burn down Democrat run cities ...I do not tolerate ANY extreme violence. Defending ALL Americans, even those who oppose and attack me, is what I will always do as your President! Governor Whitmer—open up your state, open up your schools, and open up your churches!“

Okay, anyone think that’s a normal response for the President of the United States following an arrest related to a plot to kidnap a governor?

Can you imagine if members of Black Lives Matter were arrested in a plot to kidnap the governor of, say, Florida?

Oh my lord...Walmart would run out of guns and ammo.

So there’s another Exhibit A-Z as to why I hate this president and he must not be re-elected.

He’s severely mentally ill and if you heard a snippet of his Hannity telephone call last night, he’s not physically well, either.  

He’s hoarse, coughing, and full of phlegm. 

He’s not on the ballot November 3.

You heard it here first.

In other news, I’m really happy it’s the weekend.  Both days are revolving around food.  Gary bought a couple baskets of end of summer tomatoes and he’s going to roast them all up, make his incredible sauce, and jar it all up for the winter months.

Then, inspired by winter veggies he purchased yesterday at our corner farmers market, he’s making roasted vegetable fried rice.

I adore retired Gary.

He’s so fucking happy all the time.

I’m next!

Though I gotta tell you, except for the shock and pain of missing my kids all year and Donald pooping all over the White House, I’m pretty fucking happy already.

And I’ll be even happier in a few weeks when the squatter in the sweaty streaked clown makeup and pouffy yak wig is gone.

Happy Friday!

Day 208

Day 208, self quarantine:

Thursday, October 8, 2020

Kamala slayed Pence last night and a fly came to rest on his remains.

CottonTop literally stood there on stage decomposing and the fly knew.

Pence is every bit as creepy as Trump, huh. 

Yikes.

But ew, doesn’t Pence look just like the Heavens Gate dude?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heaven%27s_Gate_(religious_group)

Okay, it’s too early to go there today.  They both make me incredibly nauseous.

Maybe later.

So we have this insane squirrel family in our back yard.

We have Steve, who is now Fat Steve, because Gary overfed him all summer, and Steve’s brother, who Gary named Dougie because he used to sponsor two brothers Dougie and Steve, who are alas no longer with us.

Those two plant themselves in the bird feeders and stuff their cute little cheeks all day.

But they have two hilarious babies who we call the Jenkins kids, who race around the yard tripping over each other and knocking down plants and our yard gnomes like they both just ate a giant bag of M&Ms.

So.  Why do we call them that?

When our kids were little, they were friends with a brother and sister, also Irish twins like Julie and Eric, and their same ages.

Their mom watched their sugar intake and only let them eat healthy fruit and vegetable snacks, unlike me, who considered candy/chocolate its own food group and let my kids eat everything.

Naturally, the Jenkins kids used to love coming over to Casa Slick for play dates.

While here, they would dart in and out of the kitchen, and I wouldn’t even see them do it, but they would their line their pockets with forbidden treats.

Every time I would check on them, they were eating something. 

And when they weren’t eating, they raced through the house like loons, darting in and out of closets, shrieking, running and leaping.

So yeah, we have the squirrel equivalent now to remind us of our former lives as parents.

Fat Steve, Dougie, and the Jenkins kids.

I guess they’ll be joining the cardinal family - Lou, Georgette, Li’l Julie and Li’l Ricky as our only holiday guests this year.

Thanksgiving is next month, people.

How is it possible Gary and I are going from our best Thanksgiving ever, 2019, when our whole family was together, to now.

Gary won’t let me talk about it because we live one day at a time but I know what’s coming.

The holidays alone.

I guess the good news is, we’ve already experienced Thanksgiving alone in 2017 and I never really talked about it but it was the only time in recent history Gary made a dinner that flopped so to say it was an awful experience is putting it mildly.  We ended up eating a bowl of Cheerios for Thanksgiving.

(I got the idea that year to have lasagna for dinner and we bought no cook noodles.  Pro tip:  You need to cook them.)

Maybe I’m wrong but I don’t think so.  The pandemic is still raging and every single expert is saying it will be even worse in the coming months so I think I’m just being realistic.

I think I need to accept 2020 is a lost year.

But in a way, it hasn’t been.

As horrifying as this year has been, it’s brought unexpected gifts.

The birds and squirrels, and a whole new appreciation of nature.

The gifts of patience and acceptance, which have eluded me my entire life.

There’s a lot more, actually, but I’m thinking it deserves its own post.

As does the vegan mushroom stroganoff Gary made for dinner last night.  Oh my fucking God, the sauce was made from white wine, coconut milk, fresh sage and thyme, and balsamic vinegar.

Maybe we’ll have that for Thanksgiving.  At least I’ll have dinner to look forward to.

Oh okay I’ll stop.

It’s all good, by Thanksgiving the election will be over and we’ll be rid of the squatter in the White House.

Oh wow does it feel good to type that.

Anyway, that’s enough out of me this morning. I need to get in gear to be Robin Slick, paralegal.

Happy Thursday.

 

Day 207

 

Day 207, self quarantine:

Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Yikes, 2020, you took Eddie Van Halen, too?

Okay, I’ve had enough.

Though okay, I can take one more. 😜

BREAKING: President Trump effectively kills any chance at a new coronavirus relief package ahead of the presidential election, saying that he won't agree to a deal until "after I win."

Okay, I’m not really sure why he’d commit political suicide like that.

Last night, when he sent out 43 deranged tweets in an hour, I was sure he was having that steroid crash everyone is predicting.

But then, one of his last tweets included a whole bunch of tags spelled correctly, everyone from Mark Meadows to Nancy Pelosi.

Donald can’t do that.

His doctor announced he has no symptoms, yet plans for a live speech/appearance were scrapped in favor of another video, but that never surfaced, either.

For all we know he’s unconscious.

Which would be preferable.

All I know is this.

The President of the United States refused to pass a stimulus bill for millions of Americans out of work unless we vote for him.

Excuse me?  On what planet is this okay?

Even knowing what I know, my entire family out of work all year, this tweet from Maggie Vail broke me yesterday.

“No stimulus basically means the entire music industry is fucked. Say goodbye to every venue you love. Every musician you love that isn't independently wealthy, all their crew, everyone that records those beautiful records, all the independent record stores, the small labels are all in jeopardy.”

Omg I just started to cry again re-reading it now.

HOW CAN THIS BE HAPPENING?

Oh, I haven’t even brought up the handmaid, Judge Taint, who might be the super spreader, whose nomination is being rammed through instead of a stimulus package.

She will forever be Judge Taint.  Her nomination is surrounded by TAINT.

While Americans suffer and wait in long lines for food.

I can’t today.

I just can’t.

Happy Wednesday.