Tag Archives | feeling mental

Everything in One Day

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.

After Tuesday’s WEDNESDAY’S walk in the woods was ruined, I was determined not to let weather, online appointments, Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020, or the ever-raging fire of slack that burns in my belly, prevent me from getting outside to do something. Anything.

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Hydroxychloroquine Might Be My Jam

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.

NOTE: This post has been updated at the request of Soiled Chamois, Inc.’s legal department. See footnote 2.

After two solid days of pandemic inspired “meh,” I fully expected to wake up dick whipped in the face with another dose. Thankfully that didn’t happen.

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Stupid Normal

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.

In the realm of Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020, things aren’t too bad for me right now: my family has remained healthy, Wifey is an essential employee who can work from home, and B is maintaining his sanity with a strict, self-imposed fitness routine and online gaming with friends until his school district figures out how the hell to finish the year.

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A Wet Escape

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.

Friday night, I did Friday night things, and some of those things were done in close proximity to Wifey. And if I had to guess, I’d say those things were done well within a 6′ radius of her. I also sat my ass on the back porch by myself and enjoyed the sunny, warm (60˚!) spring evening with a tasty beverage or three. All of that was a great way to end a day of running (or riding) away from problems via exercise and high ABVs.

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Stuffing & Oozing

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____

Mere seconds after I pushed the PUBLISH button for yesterday’s word salad, my want to ride my bike went from a lowly “I’m Going Back To Bed,” 2, to a “Where are Those Silly Clothes I Stuff Myself Into to Ride My Bike,” 10. Not sure where that came from, but it did. So I rode.

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Elusive Chicken Tacos

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.

Hello Wednesday. If that’s who you really are. You seem a lot like Tuesday, you’re acting a bit like Monday, and you’re trying to get me to do Friday things. OK, I’m all in on Friday things, I really don’t care.

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Apparently, It’s Tuesday

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____

As I start to type this, it’s 11:04 AM on Tuesday. I’ve been awake for just 12 minutes. And I fully admit, I had to quickly glance at the upper right corner of my monitor to see what day it is. Isn’t it just one long-ass pointless pandemic of a day?

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Alternative Happy Places

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____

I remember going to church when I was younger; I can still remember the smells of musty old men in sad suits that had been farted in a million times, granny perfumes, and wafting incense as the congregation robotically recited prayers that were beaten into brains since birth with the use of fear and guilt.

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Dog Hairs

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____ 

The title of this post could be referring to the amount of (Lola) dog hair I find in, on, around, beside, below, and above almost every piece of furniture, in every room, and in every orifice in the house (don’t ask). But it’s not.

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