‘it’s saint covid’s day, mum!’

 

Me af­ter two weeks of quar­an­tine.

 

God, just imag­ine how fuckin’ bor­ing it had to have been dur­ing the prairie days.

Noth­ing to do but sit around and be racist. Hav­ing to en­ter­tain your­self with shit like ball in a cup. For HOURS.

So they’d still be bored I guess.

Over here, Aaron and I just spent 20 min­utes try­ing to open a stuck jar of pick­led as­para­gus. Be­cause it’s the apoc­a­lypse.

 

 

Aaron had to go to Best Buy to get a Blue­tooth mouse so he could have more func­tion­al­i­ty with Au­to­CAD while work­ing from home. They’re do­ing on­line or­der­ing and curb­side pick­up. Also, if you just pull up to the store and tell the clerk what you want, they’ll go in and get it for you and help you buy it.

He said some jerk pulled up to Best Buy, didn’t un­der­stand why he couldn’t come in, wasn’t pick­ing up an on­line or­der, and got cranky and left when they of­fered to go in and get what­ev­er he want­ed for him.

Guess the dude just want­ed to cruise around in Best Buy.

 

 

Even though East­side Big Tom’s was do­ing an in­sane amount of busi­ness, they closed for the health and safe­ty of their em­ploy­ees, but also be­cause they roped off their out­door eat­ing area and had signs post­ed say­ing not to sit there and peo­ple ig­nored them and sat down any­way.

Then when the em­ploy­ees tried to tell them they couldn’t sit there, the cus­tomers laughed it off like it was a joke.

 

 

The Face­book feed of a per­son who post­ed no few­er than five ar­ti­cles and memes about not hang­ing out with friends and stay­ing “the fuck” at home … fol­lowed by sev­er­al pic­tures of them on a walk with their fam­i­ly, in­clud­ing two peo­ple in their six­ties, their young niece, and their baby.

 

Some peo­ple say, “Don’t be neg­a­tive,” but what­ev­er, those peo­ple don’t un­der­stand that some­times you just got­ta let it all out so it doesn’t build and build and end up poi­son­ing you.

So with that …

AAAAAAAH­H­H­HH OH MY GOD THIS FUCK­ING SUCKS I’M SO ANTSY I JUST WANT TO RUN AROUND THROW­ING SHIT AND PUNCH­ING MY OWN SKULL AND FLAIL­ING MY ARMS AND FLIP­PING THE FUCK OUT I WANT THINGS TO GO BACK TO NOR­MAL NOTH­ING ABOUT THIS IS OKAY BLAAAAAR­RGH­H­HG­GHBB­BLLTHH­PPBBT

*sighs*

Okay, I’m al­right.

 

 

Say what you will about Tom Nook, but there isn’t a hu­man alive on this plan­et who would give you one in­ter­est free loan af­ter an­oth­er with an in­fi­nite amount of time to pay it off and count­less ways to ef­fort­less­ly and en­joy­ably do so.

 

 

Less than 20 min­utes into the first episode of Tiger King and all I can think is

“yeah you know, maybe we should just let the Roni hap­pen … ”

 

 

I cut into my an­douille sausage and it squirt­ed on me so now my shirt smells like sausage but I’m not gonna change it be­cause I’ll prob­a­bly just get it messy again lat­er when I clean up around here.

 

 

I was wip­ing down the win­dowsill of our sec­ond floor bed­room when the neighbor’s kid got out of the car and walked into the house.

I want­ed to yell in a British ac­cent,

“Young lad! What day is it? Does the Covid still vex us? Mine eyes have seen nei­ther friend nor foe in such a long while …”

 

 

#justquar­an­ti­nethings

 

—emi­ly duchaine

Flom­mist Emi­ly Duchaine lives in the Pa­cif­ic North­west. She likes to drink mead, learn about sharks, and lis­ten to the Talk­ing Heads. She pre­tends to be a pro­fes­sion­al busi­ness­woman most days. Copy­right © 2020 Emi­ly Duchaine. Note: Post up­dat­ed Sun­day af­ter­noon be­cause Emi­ly kept com­plain­ing. Pic­tured up top: Span­ish Flu, 1918. Fam­i­ly Por­trait – with cat.

Jar­rett: ‘It’s Saint Covid’s day, mum!’

‘Jol­ly good, then. Here’s a hay pen­ny for you, lad. Run off to the fish­mon­ger and get your­self a scrum­my chow­der.’

Jar­rett: *bites hay pen­ny* ‘Off to scrap for chow­da, mum! Theys won’t be ready for the likes of me, mum!’

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