Day 161

Day 161, self quarantine:

Saturday, August 22, 2022

Oh my god.

It’s 4:00 a.m., I couldn’t sleep, so I came downstairs.

I heard the birds chirping like crazy so I thought I would pull the drapes back and swing the doors open early and maybe catch them in the birdbath.

I just opened the back door and came face to face with a raccoon.  

I’m in shock.

I never saw one in person before but I am pretty sure it was Rocky, though downtown Philadelphia is hardly the black mining hills of Dakota.

Though it could be argued Casa Slick is a room in a local saloon.

Oy, look at me sitting here writing and cracking jokes while I’m really sitting here completely freaking out.

I want to run upstairs screaming and wake Gary, but over forty years of living with someone tells me that’s a terrible idea.

Gary is not a morning person. He literally needs two hours and two cups of coffee before he can say Hello.

Also, unless I have a pic, he’s going to say it didn’t happen.

Yes, I’m blind, but I had my overnight contacts in and I know what I saw.

It was literally inches away from the door and stared right at me.

Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god.

This cannot be good.

So instead of like, having a nervous breakdown, I put on Chopped Sweets and I’m googling pics of raccoons for this post and reading humane ways to get rid of them.

While trying not to read how much they don’t like humans.

In the background, the contestants on Chopped Sweets are making blood orange ice cream.

On the sofa, I’m letting out silent blood (orange) curdling screams.

I wonder if they’ve been here all along?

Oy vey, I’m a city girl, I don’t know how to deal.

It’s funny raccoons have masks like robbers.  I kind of have that same “my personal space has been invaded” vibe.

I was going to write about something completely different this morning but now I can’t remember what I had to say.

It either had to do with Trump or food, probably both.

I’m so disgusted I can’t even watch the news right now.  I’m going through the five stages of grief over this country and it’s not pleasant.

Therefore, I need to think of something spectacular for dinner tonight, assuming today isn’t spent on pest control.

I’m not kidding, I really can’t deal with this.

Uh, happy Saturday?

Day 160

Day 160, self quarantine:

Friday, August 21, 2020

And just like that, summer is almost over.

Cool, cool, we’ve been in quarantine during winter, spring and summer and for us, next month will complete the circle with autumn.

So if this were a normal year, last week Gary and Julie would have been at Three of a Perfect Pair Music Camp and Gary is still moping about that so you can imagine how thrilled he was when yesterday I got gifted with this video of him doing some serious Beatles’ jamming from last summer.

https://youtu.be/tL3iXFRSkKU

I just love it so much I’m kvelling all over the place.

No wonder Gary’s so sad about missing camp this year.

I’m sort of getting resigned to the fact that the rest of 2020 and 2021 are going to be washouts/lost years.

Anyway, I decided Gary and I clearly need another project. We need gratification similar to what we experienced in the backyard.

Time to remodel upstairs.

I’m gonna break the news to him later today.  I want to get started this weekend so we get a jump on it for the last week of August when I’m off.

We both need a new place for our brains to go.  We’re edgy and a little freaked by what’s going on with Donald and it just seems like there’s an endless stream of terrible news.

What I want to know is, how can time be going so slow and fast at the same time?

The days during quarantine seem to last forever yet I can’t freaking believe that aside from our trip to the beach Monday, a lunch out last month, and 2-3 scary trips to Lowes/Target, we’ve been housebound since March 13 and somehow 3/4 of a year has slipped by.

We’re just a few weeks from Christmas commercials.  

Though I just saw one for an artificial tree.

Oy.

It’s probably best we stay busy and upstairs needs everything from a fresh coat of paint to...uh...everything.

It should keep us occupied until the end of the year.

I gotta admit, this is how I always pictured our retirement, minus the no family, no travel, no live music parts.

Though I sure didn’t have birdwatching on our bingo card 😂

I’m feeling skittish about relaxing our isolation rules. Our visit with Eric was awesome and our trip to Ocean City incredible  but we’ve decided we’re going back to strict quarantine.  

We’re not risking it.

I don’t like what I’m reading and I have bad vibes.  My third eye is on all kinds of high alert and I’ve learned to listen to the warnings.

I’ll let you know when I think it’s safe.

Until then, take care of yourselves.

Hmmm...this doesn’t feel like a normal Friday, maybe because I have a ton of work or maybe it’s because we’re not having pizza since we had it Monday, but I’m sure I will feel more celebratory as the day progresses.

I think we could all use a reason to celebrate.

"POTUS takes no responsibility, refuses to lead, blames others, cozies up to dictators, and fans the flames of hate and division. He will wake up every day, believing the job is all about him, never about you. Is that the America you want for you, your family, your children? 

While I’ll be a Democratic candidate, I’ll be an American President,” Joe Biden says as he accepts his party’s nomination.

Yesssss.

I’m so exhausted by the verbally abusive, mentally ill narcissist with the persecution complex currently in the White House. 

To be honest, he reminds me of my late father and I’m triggered every time he speaks.

Good fucking riddance.

And on that note...

Happy Friday!