NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
In my entire life, outside of the ages of 12 to 21, when I would have rather been dead for a variety of reasons (sadly not hyperbole, I was not in a good place), I can’t recall a time in my life that I have struggled with motivation as much as I am right now.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
I woke up Friday morning to a light dusting of snow on the ground (Welcome to Michiganderburgh). Thankfully that would soon melt off, but the temps would never get above 40˚, and the wind was coming right from the Witch’s nip tip. In other words, it was a good day to head out for a woodsy walk with my camera.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Yesterday I fell victim to one of Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020’s original sins: I forgot what day it was.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
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.
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.
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.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____
Another day, another chance to be amazing!
JEEEZZZZUSS-8-BRICE’S HOT MOM IN A NIGHTIE!!! I can’t believe I just typed that! Oh well, at least I didn’t type “LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE.”
Wait, what? FUCK!!!
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
My family and I are not ill. Yet.
And we’re not “officially” quarantined for any real reason other than not wanting to come into contact with any more potentially sick people than we have to. I can leave the house if I want to. And if you tell me I can’t, then I probably will.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
I have tried and failed numerous times to write this post. In my gut, that sounds like my typical slacktard hyperbole, but it’s true.
Earlier this week, the talking weather heads predicted, nay, PROMISED warmer 40-ish degree temperatures for the mid-Mitten. They lied. I hate them.
Yeah, yeah, it wasn’t 25˚, it was in the low 40s/high 30s but with a good dose of gusting wind direct from the teat of the witch, so it felt like it was 25˚. It was your classic robbing Peter to get six and one-half dozen apples and/or oranges from one pocket to another to pay Paul to stay away from Mary (I think) scenario.
