Almost Ruined


Yesterday I fell victim to one of Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020’s original sins: I forgot what day it was.

It’s been covered here– and probably on the other two blogs still being published in 2020–before, that in the days of the COVID’s1 stay at home orders, lockdowns, and quarantines, for a so nonessential I’m not sure why I was even born type like myself, the days have all blurred together into one six-foot-apart, sleep ’till 10, sexually harass my wife while she works, buttonless pants-wearing, showering optional, day drinking, shit smear of a week.

It takes some real man-sized balls/lady-sized bits to know what day it is these days. If you’re doing it, congrats and pat your balls/bits for me. You done good. As everyone who has ever visited this website—by accident, or on porpose—knows, I have no such balls. Although I have been accused of being sort of a big lady-bit from time to time.

Anyway, I forgot what day it was yesterday, so after a morning spent sleeping, not showering, and sexually harassing Wifey2 I finally got around to having those chicken tacos I’ve been craving and then left for a short hike with my camera so as to avoid Pandemic Day Drinking too early.

As I got close to the Sylvan Preserve, a FaceTime call rang on my phone. “Who the hell would FaceTime me at 1 in the afternoon??” I blurted out loud as I hit the cancel button. Then it hit me! It’s Wednesday, and the last FaceTime session I had with Mindbender No. 1 (The O.G.), wasn’t last week, it was TWO weeks ago, and I just hung up on her!! Damn!

So, I pulled in the parking lot, called her back, and we proceeded to attempt to un-fuck my head for the next hour while I sat in my car.

After the session, as I gathered my camera, two mini-vans pulled in simultaneously, and out poured two families with about 5 kids each.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Have these people never heard of birth control??”

There would be little solitude or social distancing within the small confines of the Sylvan Preserve now, so I said, “fuck it,” and took the long way home. Stopping to get a couple of poor shots of a newly found rural hump shack along the way.

Part of me would like to say something like, “The day was RUINED!” But it’s hard to ruin an already shit day, in a shit week, in a shit month, in a shittier year.

Instead, I tried to look on the bright side: I finally made those chicken tacos, I got out of the house for a bit, I talked with the O.G. Mindbender, and I found a new hump shack to photograph. I would also still have enough time to get home and see how Wifey was doing with those reports as I creepily rub my nonessential self up against her work at home unshowered body and ugly pajamas. And do all of that before the official start of Wednesday’s Pandemic Day Drinking!

Not the day I envisioned when I woke up, but in these days of the COVID, is any day the day we envisioned?


  1. I love/hate when people put “the” in front of an illness or disease: The COVID, The AIDS, The diabetes, The, etc., The, etc.,
  2. Little lady, you sure do look pretty today in your mismatched pajamas and fuzzy slippers. I’m going to need you to sit on my pantsless lap while you type that report, you know, just to make sure you’re doing it right.

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