Please do not confuse any of this as replacing my constant incandescent rage at this administration and its handling of this pandemic and utter sadness at how many people will needlessly lose their lives in this time. I can multitask.
– Trying to do math in the morning. I have special beach coffee. I’ve been using it for cold brew and I have those ratios memorized – 1/4 c beans + 1 c water. But I have no cold brew this morning, so hot brew it is. Googled “beans to grounds” ratio, finally found rule of thumb, 3T beans = 2T ground = 1 coffee scoop = 8 oz coffee. Easy. Somehow I decided 6 coffee scoops of beans would equal 2 cups of coffee and well – at least I realized my mistake before I had sludge and added the right amount of water, but I have a LOT of brewed coffee this morning.
– Inside/outside clothes. Yep, that’s gotten in my head, and I’m doing it. But before leaving the house, I’m having to stop and think, “Do I want to ditch what I’m wearing *now* when I come back? Will I be sad when I realize I have to toss these super soft jeans?” and then changing *before* I leave and again when I get back.
– Masking up. I’m actually OK with it and have acquired a delightful collection of bandanas to supplement the two I had (thank you REI) – but just, fuuuuuuck. I never saw myself deconstructing furnace filters for mask inserts, but here we are.
– Everything is just harder. Marketing. Working. Keeping my brain positively occupied. Oddly enough, sleep has been fairly easy, probably because I’m perpetually exhausted because everything is harder.
– My fuckin’ grocery bill. All the bucks I’ve saved on Starbucks and bar tabs seem to have just transferred to Giant food.
– My hands are a mess. I was washing my hands before, I swear!! But my lord, there isn’t enough hand lotion in the world it seems these days. When we’re on the backside of this, I’m gonna go to Red Door and order up a facial and tell them, “just do all that on my hands, please.”
And now I’m off to Michael’s curbside pickup to get pipe cleaners for masks, because that’s the weird fucking world we’re living in right now. (And OK, some craft supplies, because I might as well make the trip worth it.) Honestly, I have no idea how they are able to still be open, but I appreciate the fact that they are.
Hang tough, my friends.
Any interest in a tin of every New Englander’s favorite remedy, Bag Balm?
I have resorted to vaseline + gloves at bedtime, which is actually helping – when I remember to actually do it. :)