Okay, I am now at the pathetic “taking selfies to prove I exist” stage of my solitude during Gary’s trip to Seattle. Nah, I just really wanted to show you my awesome new haircut. Love you, @sharkykorban 😎. (Snip Salon)
Also, I lost 3 pounds while Gary’s away. My cardiologist is gonna be so happy. Down to 130 pounds!
Welp, pretty sure I have no remaining fingerprints on my left hand, which will come in handy if Donald slithers back in and I have to go on the lam when his secret police come to arrest me. Because yes I made the dog a hamburger and then I smoked a joint which was too big and too strong for just one person and then I somehow decided it was okay to reach into the oven without a potholder and literally stuck my entire left hand on the red hot broiler thingee. Yes I screamed and immediately stuck my hand under water and yes I have blisters. And here I thought I was simply going to accidentally cut myself and bleed to death this week while my husband’s away thanks to being on blood thinners that make me have to always make sure I’m near bandaids. Oh my god, I hemorrhage from a paper cut.
Oh well. I’m too wounded to even heat up dinner, I’m gonna order a vodka pizza. I’m not even lying, it’s from a place in the hood and it’s most excellent. Vodka pizza. When you want to eat your drink.
Four more days til Gary comes home.
Can I just say something?
After being all by myself the past two days while my husband is in Seattle, I have new respect and compassion for anyone who lives alone, especially anyone older like me.
I’m fucking humbled.
Jesus Christ, I’m sitting here talking to myself.
You don’t even want to know what goes through my head when I don’t have anyone around. My post pandemic new self is weird and terrified by everything and probably needs therapy.
Gary used to go away to music camp for a week in August every year and I used to look forward to it. I’d order dinner every night from expensive restaurants on Grubhub or meet friends for cocktails. Sometimes I’d stay up all night and watch the Food Network.
I have zero desire to do any of that, though on the plus side, I’ve taken Jasper for 97 walks, cleaned and reorganized the kitchen, and edited the first couple chapters of my novel.
Speaking of novels, Daddy Left Me Alone with God is available in paperback again and ebook if there’s anyone left who still wants to read it. I have an interesting new publisher 😎
https://books2read.com/u/m2qLo7
Anyway, listening to Richard and Teddy Thompson singing Persuasion and REM’s Try Not to Breathe on my YouTube shuffle probably isn’t helping things. I should put on dance music and twirl Jasper around the living room.
Oy.
Gary left me dinners for the week so food isn’t on my mind, either, no restaurant cooks vegetarian food like he does. Last night I ate rigatoni with spinach, artichokes, tomatoes and feta in white wine butter sauce; tonight I have fusilli with pesto, potatoes and peas.
Grubhub who?
Okay, that’s it for me. I’m gonna see if I can incorporate some of this emotion into my new novel, which is officially now called Leaving Candyland.
But yeah, I’m feeling really humbled.
So tomorrow Gary leaves for a week in Seattle to hang out with Julie.
I have a serious question.
Should I use the time alone with Jasper to:
(1) Marie Kondo/Swedish Death Clean this entire house, a once in a lifetime opportunity and something I’ve tried unsuccessfully for Gary to do with me since the pandemic. I have to say it weighs heavily on me, it keeps me up at night, I don’t want the kids stuck with 50 years of stuff if god forbid anything happens to us.
Or,
(2) Edit the first full length novel I’ve written and been (sorta) happy with in the last ten years? I’m way excited about it because it explores a favorite topic of mine these days, dealing with growing older while maintaining a strong sense of humor. If you don’t, you’re not going to enjoy whatever’s left of your life.
I mean, I’ve noticed there’s usually two types of retired people, (a) those who want to do, do, do 24/7 and have second careers, travel, and (b) those who are like Hey, I worked for 50 years and raised a family, leave me the fuck alone, I’m perfectly happy vegging out and have zero goals other than waking up breathing.
Gary and I are 100% (b).
Writing is something I have done every day since I’m a kid, it’s as natural as breathing so I never consider it work and it sure as hell doesn’t make me an (a).
But I started thinking, what if I wasn’t like that? What if I were an (a) and Gary was a (b)?
It would be horrible for both people, so naturally my brain went there.
But it could also be funny.
What if they had a child who was a celebrity chef in a celebrity romance so the novel wasn’t just about boomers and I could also spend a lot of time talking about food and how much parents should or should not be involved in their adult children’s lives.
The novel just wrote itself.
Anyway, those are my two choices. I’m not entertaining any other ideas, I need to be totally committed to whatever I choose.
Okay, back to helping Gary pack.
***POSTSCRIPT
Gary: You’re not going to do anything stupid while I’m gone, are you?
Me:
Gary: What are you planning?
Me: I’m going to edit my novel
Gary: What else?
Me, looking at my feet:
Gary: Please don’t try and lift or move stuff and please don’t throw anything out without me.
Me: WHYYYY
Gary: Because you’re on 5 different medications for your wonky heart and you take blood thinners. If you have a heart attack or cut yourself and bleed to death, who will feed Jasper?
Me, now terrified (not really but I have to say, neither thought occurred to me, especially bleeding): Okay, I will just work on my novel.
Which is really what I wanted to do, anyway 😎
Me: Gary, Gary! It’s going to be 72 degrees on Tuesday. Let’s go to the beach!
Gary: Haha, April fools, right?
Me, confused: Huh? Look at your phone. 72 degrees with a little smiling sun. Why would I joke about that? I’ve been telling you I’m dying for boardwalk pizza since January.
Gary: You’re kidding. (And he’s staring at me like I’m insane.)
Me:
(Still not getting it)
Gary: Rob. What’s Tuesday?
Me:
(Still perplexed, okay, still really thinking of a warm piece of Manco Pizza. Mmm…gooey cheese…thin buttery crust…and then, light bulb goes off over head)
Me: Ohhhhhhhhhhh
Gary: Yeah. Just the day we’ve been waiting for since January of 2017 and all you’ve been talking about for the last six years.
Me: Omg! Talk about a senior moment. Jesus Christ, do you think I should get tested for Alzheimers? How the hell did I forget about THAT?
Gary: No clue. Too busy thinking about pizza sounds right, though.
Me: Well, we need to celebrate big time Tuesday. I know what to do.
Gary:
Me:
(Long pause. Longer pause. Read my mind, bro)
Gary: You want me to drive down the shore, don’t you.
Me at the same time: We should get pizza!
This is the secret to our marriage, people. I’m the planner and Gary is my enabler I mean facilitator 😎
His tweets, or “truths” yesterday were blatant racist and antisemitic calls to his base to protest, and he knows that said base does not protest peacefully.
And after a morning of these repulsive, hateful bleats, he posted this, which thousands of people retweeted:
All the people who retweeted this got a free pass, but I’m suspended.
Okay, whatever.
And then, last night, he posted this:
There will be death and destruction if he’s indicted?
THAT’S DONALD’S WET FUCKING DREAM!
Fuck you, Merrick “Derelict” Garland. You should be fired in disgrace today.
Fuck you, Elon Musk. You ruined Twitter, just like you ruin your personal relationships. I was friendly with your ex wife, your kids hate you, too.
Take it from me, citizens. Rich people in general ruin everything.
But triple Fuck Yous to every idiot in America who voted for Donald. I hate you with every fiber of my being. If you think you are a good Christian, you’re not, I will throw you to the lions myself.
Just look what Donald did to America. You’re responsible, too. Let’s start with 600,000 Americans dead in a pandemic because of his lies and politicization.
Have a nice weekend.
