My post COVID creep back into the world started on Wednesday with a short “Last Day of Quarantine” solo hike in the woods of the Sylvan Preserve. Then, I made it official on Thursday when I returned to the cold, sagging, well-milked bosom of society with a trip to Meijer to buy groceries. It was all very anti-climatic and soon forgotten.
NOTE: ALL POST-ILLNESS UPDATES ARE LOCATED BELOW
It’s been a month since I felt the need to post anything here; I apologize in advance for now breaking that silence like a wet fart birthed from betweenst the cheeks of that angry wino that hangs out on the corner of Roosevelt and Bluff.
I have a resume of skills, talents, and responsibilities as long as an ill-written curt note stuck on a cafeteria vending machine, yet I can’t find the time or want to get outside and or write a blog post. Lucky you!
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY 80.
“I can go out. I can go in.
Out. In.
Out. In. In. Out.
Out. In.”
– Hawkeye Pierce, M*A*S*H
I wrote the first edition of The Quarantine Chronicles 80 days ago today. With Monday’s announcement from my girl G.W. lifting the Stay at Home order for Michigander’s, I have decided that this will be the last post in the series.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
In my previous post, I talked of being on a mood rollercoaster. Well, that rollercoaster went off the rails and smashed right into a crowded elephant ears stand a hundred feet below.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
“I’ve got a ticket come ride with me
Let me go down on the merry-go-round
All is fair ‘n’ a big fairground
Let’s go slow, let’s go fast
Like a licorice twist gonna whip your ass.”
–Love Rollercoaster, Ohio Players
Other than having the word “rollercoaster” in the song, the lyrical reference above from funk legends Ohio Players does absolutely nothing to illustrate the mood rollercoaster that I—and many others—have been experiencing during Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
I know it’s wrong to talk of illness in the throws of a global pandemic, but given my two-year on/off relationship with my bike, for me to ride three out of the past four days must mean I’m ill. In an awesome, it feels good to sweat, slobber, pant, and wake up sore sort of way. Cheez-Its H. Rice, that made it sound like I was having sex with a bear. A bear, not a “bear.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Macro Monday has been canceled due to the Memorial Day holiday (which only means that I don’t have any new true macro shots to share).
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
I think I must be adapting to this Not Really Quarantined pandemic lifestyle; despite a ride on Friday, doing whatever else it is I do, and staying up too late trying to forget about the year that keeps throwing poo known as 2020, I was up early on Saturday. I guzzled some coffee and shunned my intermittent fasting for the day as I smashed some avocado toast (it’s not just for Millenials, yo), and watched some action from the current greatest football league in the world (das Bundesliga) 1. Then it was a few visits to the Throne of Soilage, before waiting around to greet Bob the Irrigation Man when he arrived to reroute some sort of water line thing-a-ma-jig being pinched by a tree root 2. Three hours later I was finally ready to ride.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
It’s Friday evening, and I am trying to piece together another week of Pandemic-A-Go-Go 2020 as Bombay Sapphire hits my bloodstream, and Danzig hits my ear holes. Thankfully I have photos to cajole my memory. A mental fluffer for me if you will.
