Ten? No… sixteen? Wait, twenty-seven days ago? It doesn’t matter. At a time when I followed the Gregorian calendar and before the coronavirus swept the nation, I had it figured out. I was working at a swanky marketing firm where the coffee was always warm and everyone was much better looking than me. I was making money, occasionally having sex, and I finally learned how to talk about art pretentiously in public.
Then the virus began to ravage the states and I found my self working at home. Initially, it was nice not having to chain smoke cigarettes and get into honking battles with people over the Brooklyn Bridge on my way to work. I was finally getting to catch up on all of the books I’ve illegally downloaded to my Kindle and even learned enough French to make my friends feel bad about themselves for not knowing another language!
The fun began to flee, though, as the days continued to pass and I was still quarantined. Grocery stores were beginning to be stocked less and less, and due to this, I had to change my diet. Usually my meals would consist of pasta, chicken, and other commonly found items, but they’re never in stock when I go shopping, so I’ve had to resort to eating Catfish Nuggets™ and Jell-O for dinner.
As well, I almost have too much free time now, which has led me to picking up some interesting hobbies during this quarantine. Just the other day, I found myself taking a BuzzFeed quiz about National FUCKING Treasure movie trivia and I passed with a 94%. That sustained me for a while. One week I really got into tarot card readings, but drew a “death,” “ace of swords,” and “hanged man” cards and decided it wasn’t for me.
The following week I watched a three-hour long tutorial video about soap carving while I followed along with my own bar of soap. That didn’t last as long as the tarot cards, so now I’m just one of those people who watches porn before 11 a.m.
At this point, I feel like a middle-aged woman whose been married for 20+ years raising kids and doesn’t even know who she is anymore. I want Trump to stop lashing out at the WHO because that’s like yelling at your doctor when he tells you you have chlamydia.
I want everyone to work together to get this under control.
I want to go back to my old life because I liked who that guy was. But can I even be sure of that anymore? Can I trust my own thoughts? Do I even exist?
I have no idea know anymore.
