Like many Americans I’ve been sheltering at home since early March. As a natural introvert I knew I’d be able to handle a few weeks hanging out a home, but after six weeks with no end in sight, even I’m surprised at how well I’m doing.
My hair has grown past my shoulders for the first time in ten years. It’s officially more grey than brown and I don’t care. In fact, I’m struggling to remember the last time I washed it, focusing instead on the novelty of wearing a ponytail again. I don’t wear any clothing that requires any fastening with buttons or zippers. My makeup and jewelry cases are gathering dust. My diet consists mostly of pizza, chocolate, cheese and beer. My stress levels have dropped significantly now that I no longer feel pressure to be part of society, and I now binge-watch TV shows with no FOMO. I’m free to be me without guilt.
That being said, I realize that a lot of extroverts out there that are really struggling from the lack of human contact. I wish you well, and share your hope that this lockdown ends soon. That might seem contradictory to what I just wrote, but I’ve learned that life is like a rollercoaster: just when you feel like you’re on top of the world, you’re plunged screaming into the abyss. For once I’d like to jump out at the top, climb down to the ground and enjoy a soft pretzel. Here’s hoping we can enjoy that pretzel together.
And if not, check back in a month for my next post, “Quarantine Week 10: There’s Something Moving Behind the Yellow Wallpaper.”
Is it February 29th already? Feels like we just had one four years ago. Where did the time go?? Probably into that same black hole as my sunglasses, youthful optimism and 34-inch waist. I don’t remember if I did anything special that day, but since none of my friends and family have ever brought up any embarrassing stories involving this date, I’m going to say no.
And that’s a shame, because I feel like we should all be making more of a fuss. We make a big deal out of other events that only happen every four years, such as the summer and winter olympics and the presidential election, so why not Leap Day? It’s just as deserving as the others, minus the drama. We can call it Leap Day Day.
I think the best way to get people excited about a Leap Day Day is to commercialize the hell out of it. Leap Day cards, balloons, napkins, plates, balloons, etc. Start running commercials for big Leap Day Day sales beginning January 1st. Get a few Twitter celebrities to promote it. They’re just like real celebrities in that they’ll grasp at anything that gives them attention, but for free.
We need to get the ball rolling on this. Start wondering out loud why we don’t celebrate Leap Day, both online and in person. Get enough people talking to get the attention of the retailers, and by 2024 we’ll all be wearing our Leap Day Day clogs, eating Leap Day Day persimmon tarts and playing Leap Day Day games like toad toss.
Remember, every day is a blessing, so getting an extra one must be celebrated as the precious gift that it is. And what better way to do that than buying a whole bunch of crap we don’t want or need? Get on it, America!
Today is the first day of the Chinese New Year. For the Chinese it’s a sacred tradition going back thousands of years. For everybody else it’s a chance for a New Year’s resolutions do-over, only this time swapping out the champagne for the much cooler scorpion bowls. As for me, this Chinese New Year holds a very special significance, because it’s the Year of the Rat.
For those of you who are too happy and fulfilled to care about such things, the Rat is the first animal in the Chinese Zodiac. It’s a twelve-year cycle represented by twelve different animals, and your animal is determined by the year you were born. That’s right, those of you who have been paying close enough attention to put two and two together before I finish this incredibly long sentence, I was born in the Year of the Rat. This is my year! Despite the fact that rats are disease-carrying-crop-destroying vermin that rational people kill on sight, this is my year! Despite the fact that the zodiac is about as accurate as horoscopes and meteorologists, this is my year! Despite the fact that I can’t think of a third thing, this is my year!
Why do I harbor such unfounded optimism? Because I’m a writer. Unfounded optimism fuels our flighty little brains, which occasionally spit out some good stuff. So take a look around my website and feel free to email me if you have any questions, or just want to give me money to whip up more gems like this.