Quarantine Blues, Episode 1

or how I miss the old normal

April 9, 2020

Day 600 of the COVID quarantine. Somewhere in there. I’ve lost track. My days all start the same: up at the crack of 9, eat a bagel, drink black coffee, watch the news. Get caught up on the latest infection scores. NY is still winning, but NJ is making a run. On the world arena, we’re Number One. Getting tired of listening to that little rat-faced doctor — who thinks he knows everything — tell us it’s gonna be worse than we think and to wash our hands and stay the hell away from each other. I like the woman doctor, though. She seems nice. America’s grandmother, except for the Pelosi scarves. Still, she hasn’t once told me to wash anything, but I would if she did.

Love the Prez duking it out with all those snide reporters. Every time one of them asks a stupid question, I keep expecting him to say,

“Jane, you ignorant slut.”

Hasn’t yet, but I can tell he wants to. He might. Keeps me watching.

Stocks still in the tank

But what do I care. Government is going to send me a truckload of money for the next several months. They say. And make China pay for it. Haven’t gotten mine yet.

Running out of things to do besides watch the news.

Those first few days, my dog used to dance like a happy Greek when I showed him the leash. Now he has taken to hiding in the closet. Too much of a good thing, I guess. There are just so many light poles, hydrants, and bushes to pee on. There’s tons of other dogs out, too. At first, he was pretty excited about meeting new friends, but after a while all the butts you sniff start smelling the same. Think he’s burned out, sort of a dog PTSD thing.

Binge watching Ancient Aliens

on the History Channel. I’m pretty sure Noah was a Reptilian from the Pleiades and the Great Pyramid of Giza was once a Costco. Sometimes, I’m not so sure. The guy with the hair always post-scripts everything with

“What if it were true…”

Wull, yeah. I mean…

My grandkids are avoiding me.

We used to Facetime regularly, but they’ve got other things to do. My fifteen-year-old is off training for WW 3 at Ft. Call of Duty. My three-year-old says she still loves me but just needs to get on with her life.

My daughter keeps calling to lecture us about leaving the house. Threatened to phone-ground us if we don’t stop sneaking out. I think she bought a spy-drone to keep a check on us.

Went Senior Shopping

yesterday at the super market. Old people are annoying. There’s one woman — about 110, I think, has on at least 50 coats — who doesn’t follow protocol. You’re supposed to follow the arrows and stay at least 6 feet apart. She goes up

and down the aisles like it’s 2019. When you try to tell her she’s breaking the rules, she just says, “What?” like she can’t hear you and keeps on going loading up on prunes and toilet paper. I think she’s playing us.

Don’t have a mask,

so I wear my red bandana. Walked up to my pharmacist and he stuck his hands in the air. Ha ha. Haven’t seen that one before. Teenage clerk looked at me like I was Typhoid Annie.

Haven’t spent this much time with my wife since before we had children.

She wants me to do stuff she wants but not what I want. For instance, I got on a ladder to fix a gutter and she yelled at me for getting on a ladder at my age. I sure hope she has a job to go back to when this is all over. She told me she doesn’t do it for the money.

Tomorrow it’s either Wednesday or Monday.

I’m going to start keeping an eye on my neighbors. They’er starting to act suspicious. All of their children live out of town, so they’re not watched so closely. They’re up to no good, I think. Lucky them. Join me for Episode 2 when it comes out to find out more.

Tomorrow, if I have time, I plan on looking for a light at the end of the tunnel.

Can I send you something?

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Besides humorist, I like to call myself a storyteller and novelist, because that’s what I do.

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