NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Last week was a busy, productive week. Then it wasn’t.
I went from DIY madness in the backyard, to working a few hours in the shop on Friday, to doing nothing but slacking off and sliding into a pissy funk.
I did my daily hikes with my camera and occasionally skulked around the vast (not really) estate of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack, taking some macro shots of our shrubs and Bradford pear trees. Trees that were described in one online article as being “lovely in appearance but smelling like a mixture of rotting fish and semen.” Ma Nature’s inside joke, I suppose.
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Saturday was a quick hike around Meridian Park, and Sunday, I went for a morning hike at the Hall’s Lake preserve to find some inner peace, and instead, I found more rage. It seems the moron across the road (remember him?) from the preserve finds his inner peace by target shooting at 9:40 AM. For the first half-hour of the hike, I was tensed up and doing everything I could to not scream at him to shove his gun up his ass and pull the fucking trigger. The only way I dealt with starling gunshots echoing through the woods, was to imagine that it wasn’t a MAGA hat-wearing fuck face exercising his white man right to play soldier, but a little old lady with her snub nose 38 blasting targets plastered with photos of her cheating ex-husband.
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When he finally finished being a gun shooting asshole, I was able to relax as best I could, get some shots, and go home to do what I do every almost every goddamn day of Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020.
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Heavy rain and wind are nut smacking mid-Michigan this Monday morning, so I am going to dump out, head out for a rainy hike somewhere, do some shopping for pandemic essentials, and do my best not to slip into another funk.
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Later.