Quick Notes From Quarantine

A few personal (and non-political, believe me I’ve got plenty of those) thoughts and updates on life over the last few weeks.  We’re healthy and stable so far, thank goodness, but there’s always something interesting in the mundane.

• I’ve been harboring a quiet little secret that even my family has yet to notice.  The jeans that I’ve worn nearly every day for six weeks have developed an enormous tear that’s fraying right in the upper thigh / crotch area.  It’s providing a nice cooling breeze as the weather turns warmer.

 

• Normally I’d throw them out, but there’s something about this tear that is making me happy.  Not only is the timing great (let’s be honest, you’re probably not even wearing pants as you’re reading this), but the location of is nearly perfect – it’s hidden by my legs when standing and just enough on the backside of my pants when seated.  

 

• What can I say, I just like knowing it’s there when you don’t.  It’s freeing, in a way.   It’s like my own private cul-de-sack (misspelling intended), and I’m not changing until I’m literally exposing myself.

 

• Speaking of clothing, my daughter has decided to enlist me as a contestant on a daily game show she’s calling “Guess The Athleta”.  Each evening, she asks me to look at my wife’s attire and determine how many pieces of Athleta brand apparel she’s wearing at any given moment.  

 

• Since our quarantine time together has begun, the correct answer has yet to be “zero”.

• Has anyone else decided to eat their way through the pandemic?  I’m hitting our pantry and refrigerator hard, consuming fresh, frozen and frightening food with little regard to meal time or expiration dates.

 

• A troubling case in point: when it became clear that we were going to be spending some serious time at home, I did the obligatory supermarket stock-up and decided we should have some canned foods at the ready.  I bought some basics, the soups and vegetables you’d expect. But down the aisle I discovered the shelf featuring cans of Chef Boyardee Ravioli.  

 

• Now, I’ve seen enough zombie apocalypse movies to know that there is no greater charred-earth discovery than an unopened can of heavily processed pasta “food”, so I decided that we needed a few to have in the pantry.  You know, just in case of emergency.

 

• That didn’t work.  I’m now about six cans in, with nary a zombie in sight.  Having them in the house is proving irresistible, calling out to my inner 11-year-old every time I open my pantry door with the promise of salty preservatives and empty calories.  To be clear:  Chef Boyardee Ravioli does not actually taste all that good, and we have better options still available in the cupboards.  But that doesn’t seem to matter right now.  I need my fix.

 

• So the truth is out there.  Chef Boyardee isn’t a chef…he’s an evil shaman luring helpless middle aged men to the dark side in their weak moments of isolation.  And I kinda like it.  

 

• Someone asked on Facebook the other day what people were missing the most during their “social distancing” time away from the normal world.  The obvious answers were given:  missing restaurants, time with their friends, physical contact, etc.  I gave it some thought, and realized what I clearly miss the most. 

 

• I miss my wife missing me.  

 

• You know what I mean, that genuine look of excitement when you’re seeing someone for the first time that day/week/month/anything longer than 45 seconds ago.  Not getting much of that look these days.

 

• TIme together is good, but then there’s time together.  Time together after time apart (even for a typical workday) is much more satisfying than watching each other repeat their habits and annoying personal tendencies on a perpetual loop.  We’re kind of in relationship Groundhog Day at this point.  Pretty sure she’s had enough of my face for the next 20 years or so.

 

• What didn’t help:  the Celebrity IOU episode on HGTV featuring Brad Pitt.  Within minutes of the show starting, I noticed my wife trading glances between Mr. Pitt and me with increasing levels of disappointment.  

 

• Much to no one’s surprise in my family, it turns out that my inability to get a haircut did not result in me developing long and flowing locks of blond hair like Brad Pitt seems to grow by squinting his eyes and flexing his abdominals for a few minutes.  My hair, what little of it remains, does not grow straight.  It grows OUT, on a horizontal plane from left to right on the sides of my enormous head.  It’s like my hair is trying to stay even with the horizon. I’ve looked at times as if Krusty The Clown mated with an aroused porcupine.

 

• I’m also growing out my beard, which also isn’t helping matters much.  Rather than creating a nice cushy layer of soft and comforting beardiness, my face has decided to switch to a new fabric, something gray, coarse and curly.  These curls are growing slightly faster right above my ears, like mini payot on a Hassid in training.  A neighbor recently asked if I could perform their son’s circumcision.  It’s not a good look on me.

 

• But hey, the important things remain true so far.  My family has remained healthy and safe throughout this ordeal, despite so many in this area struggling.  I’ve been moved by so many stories of compassion, empathy and courage (one of which I’ll be writing about shortly).  And I know that the opportunity to spend concentrated time with my kids is something I’ll look back on fondly.

 

• Well, maybe 80% fondly.  The other 20% of the time is spent shouting, door slamming and offering the occasional profanity (including a solid double-fisted middle finger salute bestowed upon me during one evening’s festivities).  I think I’ll block those with selective memory and an extra ounce of gin.

 

• So like my torn jeans stretched thin in the most delicate of areas,  I’m holding things together as best as I can.  Most importantly, I hope you are too.

 

Always love to hear from readers!  Write me at michael@toolazytowriteabook.com to let me know if your pants or spouse’s facial hair is faring better than mine.  Or like my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/toolazytowriteabook/ to stay informed of when I’m posting.  Thanks for reading, and stay safe!