Day 68, self quarantine:
Yay, it’s Friday, it’s a three day weekend and then I work three days and have another three day weekend and I am so, so down with that.
Let the eating begin.
Oh yeah, first I have to do the legal gig today. I’m a wreck because I’m emailing my boss the mediation statement I’ve been working on all month after I’m done writing this and it’s just like turning a paper in to your professor, desperate for a good grade, only way worse because I’m old and feeble and not carefree and nineteen. 😎
I don’t think this is my best work but then again, I never do. Beware the writer enamored with their own writing. Yikes.
I just hope I don’t have to spend all day fixing it. I’m anxious to start the weekend!
So one of the reasons our relationship works is that even though we’re very much alike, Gary and I are good at different things. I’m the brains in this duo, he’s the common sense. I mean, Gary’s smart but he isn’t a reader and he didn’t like school, where I read about a thousand books a year and my fantasy retirement goal is to be a senior auditor at Penn‘s Arts and Sciences school.
I ran the money and education side of things at Casa Slick and Gary’s the one who ran the domestic side. I can’t even drive a car.
Oh, yeah, I don’t drive. You don’t want to know.
Anyway, Gary won’t play board games with me because I always win. I can’t help it, and until an unfortunate episode with alcohol last time we played, even Julie Slick could never beat me at Scrabble.
During quarantine, I’ve had such an urge to play something but Gary refuses. Bummer. We have a treasure trove of board games here!
If only it was in my DNA to throw a couple games and let him win, we would have a completely different scenario.
So when I came downstairs one afternoon a couple weeks ago and caught Gary correctly calling out answers while watching a 1966 Password show on television, I immediately went on eBay.
I paid $15 and got a perfect condition 1963 Password board game.
“What’s this?” asked Gary after we got the contact free delivery knock on the door.
“Open it, open it,” I said excitedly. “It’s an early Father’s Day present.”
He stabbed at the box with a knife and ripped open the carton like a little kid.
“You got me Password?” he asked, looking at me like I was a mental patient.
“Well, yeah. I thought it would be fun. That’s actually from 1963!”
“I can see that. It’s still got the price tag on it. Look - it cost $1.98.”
“Omg! That’s so cool!”
“Thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“When can we play?” I asked.
“When the kids are here?”
Oh, boo. C’mon, Gary.
“Let’s play tonight!” I was already planning the evening. First we’d have nachos.
“How are we going to manage that?”
“Wut?”
What was he talking about?
“You need four people to play Password, genius.”
Oh for the love of God.
“It’s why they call it Password. Your team passes the word to the other team.”
“We can’t just play each other?” I asked sheepishly.
“It’s not possible, Rob,” he laughed.
I knew that, I did. What was I thinking?
So now this quarantine has to end soon. I need my kids to be here so we can play Password.
I told you I have no common sense. Password for two people. Sheesh.
Maybe I can talk him into playing Clue.
So I’m wondering what people are doing for Memorial Day weekend. Are there going to be Zoom barbecues?
The mind boggles.
I must be slipping. Gary and I haven’t discussed what we’re having for dinners this holiday weekend but then again, every night is the same in apocalypse land.
I’ll figure it out.
It will probably involve fried potatoes.
Have an awesome Friday.
