Notes From Quarantine
DAY 6, Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2020
The masked woman who lives upstairs cooked bacon today. That in itself is not remarkable, although I always appreciate when she does it. What is remarkable? She SMELLED the bacon as she cooked it. She lost her sense of smell several days ago, due to the virus, and in the middle of cooking the bacon today, she realized she could actually smell. I see this as a positive sign, although this revelation inspired me to immediately take a shower. Later, we experimented with other scents, and she was able to smell some of them, but not others, although none of them are as wonderfully odiferous as bacon. It was a fascinating experiment, and I look forward to smelling more things with her tomorrow.
Today’s observations:
As a part of my job today, I was called cowardly by one tough guy, and was also told that my articles are awful by another. Both of these accusations came in Facebook comments sections, because that’s where real men fight. Both also actually thought they were telling me something I didn’t already know.
Hush, children. Grown-ups are talking about grown-up things. Go to your safe space.
A lot more people are cooking and ingesting meth than anyone realizes. Even some of the ones cooking and ingesting it don’t realize it.
The best place to eat in town is also the county’s most efficient super-spreader of COVID. And no one gives a damn, because, bourbon wings! Yum!
I have a handful of odd, recurring dreams. I am not going to tell you about any of them. I’m especially not going to tell you about the one where I’m fishing for walleye with a giant squirrel, Arnold Palmer and Raquel Welch, and a bunch of penguins swim past us.
I’ve never shot a man, but I would. I wouldn’t be thrilled about it.
I haven’t worn jammies since about 1978, I think. The last pair of jammies I had were Minnesota Vikings jammies, they were itchy as hell, full of static electricity, and I think they were doused in some kind of flame-retardant chemical so I wouldn’t burn to death in my sleep. Best jammies ever, I think.
Today’s quarantine playlist: Pink Floyd, Van Hagar, Peter Gabriel, 50 Cent, Ray Charles.
Overall status: Balls.
DAY 6, Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2020
The masked woman who lives upstairs cooked bacon today. That in itself is not remarkable, although I always appreciate when she does it. What is remarkable? She SMELLED the bacon as she cooked it. She lost her sense of smell several days ago, due to the virus, and in the middle of cooking the bacon today, she realized she could actually smell. I see this as a positive sign, although this revelation inspired me to immediately take a shower. Later, we experimented with other scents, and she was able to smell some of them, but not others, although none of them are as wonderfully odiferous as bacon. It was a fascinating experiment, and I look forward to smelling more things with her tomorrow.
Today’s observations:
As a part of my job today, I was called cowardly by one tough guy, and was also told that my articles are awful by another. Both of these accusations came in Facebook comments sections, because that’s where real men fight. Both also actually thought they were telling me something I didn’t already know.
Hush, children. Grown-ups are talking about grown-up things. Go to your safe space.
A lot more people are cooking and ingesting meth than anyone realizes. Even some of the ones cooking and ingesting it don’t realize it.
The best place to eat in town is also the county’s most efficient super-spreader of COVID. And no one gives a damn, because, bourbon wings! Yum!
I have a handful of odd, recurring dreams. I am not going to tell you about any of them. I’m especially not going to tell you about the one where I’m fishing for walleye with a giant squirrel, Arnold Palmer and Raquel Welch, and a bunch of penguins swim past us.
I’ve never shot a man, but I would. I wouldn’t be thrilled about it.
I haven’t worn jammies since about 1978, I think. The last pair of jammies I had were Minnesota Vikings jammies, they were itchy as hell, full of static electricity, and I think they were doused in some kind of flame-retardant chemical so I wouldn’t burn to death in my sleep. Best jammies ever, I think.
Today’s quarantine playlist: Pink Floyd, Van Hagar, Peter Gabriel, 50 Cent, Ray Charles.
Overall status: Balls.
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