Today, I’m spiraling.
I have trouble focusing on the positive. We’re on lock-down day 12. Or 13. I don’t know…
The province shut down last night at midnight. The city declared a state of emergency.
Facebook stupidity left me distraught so I quit. Wasn’t useful anyway. I exited and I doubt I’ll be back anytime soon. It’s not like I can advertise my dog-walking business now…
Most of my family and some of my friends never check in with me unless I check in with them first. Today, this bothers me. (I’ll get over it. I have lots of practice.)
So I quit them too. Deleted their contacts. They know where to find me if they want to. (They won’t bother. I know this and after today, it won’t bother me anymore.)
My dominant emotions currently are anger, sadness and frustration. Day 12, or 13 of this fucking pandemic.
I miss my dog walking business.
I miss my freedom.
I miss a lot of things. Cheese on demand, for instance.
It’s not really about fear. I am comfortable in my own know-how to survive with little and figure it out. I’m a pragmatist, innovative and creative.
I’ll be fine.
Unless I kill everyone around me for insisting on irritating me. Then I’ll be in jail with the corona keeping me company.
It’s not them, you understand, I’m just hormonally challenged or something. Fed up.
Cheese would help. I have some cheddar but I want some fancy, artisanal cheese. Something unusual, to nosh on with a nice, chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
I am spoiled. Go ahead and point it out. I DARE YOU.
The cheese I do have in my fridge I want to save for casseroles I make to feed the family. For some pandemic flavour.
Note: I quit making dinner tonight. They’re on their own.
Then, when it was going on quarter to seven, and I didn’t smell anything through the closed and locked bedroom door, I went to investigate.
They had dumped the frozen pizzas on the counter next to the stove and were plugged in. Waiting for their housekeeper, no doubt, to put the pizzas in the oven.
Well let’s just say I exercised my vocal cords.
After my vocal gymnastics, I retreated to my bedroom and commenced folding all the laundry someone dumped on my bed.
The stash of clothing I had for each kid were left a the steps. Certain people navigated the steps multiple times in the ten minutes I folded the laundry without once picking up a stash of clean clothing and taking it to the designated rooms.
I LIVE WITH A BUNCH OF INCONSIDERATE IDIOTS.
(There. I said it. Go ahead and cough on me.)
Instead of making dinner I’m sitting on my bed drinking boxed red wine feeling sorry for myself.
Parenting, to begin with.
And wife-ing. (It’s not him, it’s me.)
And dinner. (Also, they ate all the snacks and didn’t leave me any.)
Since I’m already complaining, the guinea pigs are fat and poop too much. I’m the only one who cares and cleans them up.
Every single day.
So. Before I descend further into the giant abyss of self-pity, allow me to turn this around before the wine makes me into a raging, yelling lunatic. I mean, a rage-ier, louder lunatic. Sorry not sorry.
Here’s the good stuff:
1. The fridge is not breaking down. Whatever the dude did to fix it a few months ago, it’s working. (Hope I didn’t jinx it by typing it out.)
2. My kids are not babies, toddlers or preschoolers. If they were I’d be dead and buried by now, after almost two weeks of quarantine. Because lack of proper socializing in parks and playground would have been sooooo hard. (But I would have managed. I’m just saying, I’m happy I don’t have to deal with that.)
3. If I ran off today they would survive just fine. I hang on to this harder than I can admit to.
4. School is not that important. Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck if they do school work or not. Whatever is sent to me via the board or the province I pass on to them. If they choose to do it, great. If not, I’m done battling and enforcing. Fail for all I care. (They won’t fail. That’s the positive.) They can read and learn practical things and be just fine. Even without practicing whatever the board mandates these days.
5. I have wine. In a box, which may be empty by tonight, but still.
6. I have chocolate. Both my own stash, and the contraband they still haven’t found.
7. I have this blog and you who put up with me. 💗
8. My mom learned how to join WhatsApp. And Skype loaded in a different browser than her normal one for her, so we’re all set. This is a great thing because I can’t see my parents in person and having access to them via electronics is more helpful in this tricky, stupid pandemic time.
9. I have friends in places like London, Frankfurt, South Dakota, Tampa, Houston, Manhatten and North Toronto who respond to me when I reach out to them. Usually. I reach out to them a lot. I apologize for pestering you (but I’m not sorry). Just know this:
I ❤ U
9. There is still wine in the box. There may not be for long but there is one more box after that.
10. They declared the wine store to be an essential service after they shut down the province last night which means I may very well be heading out of the house tomorrow to load up on more wine. Not boxed, this time though. (Although it’s not bad…)
Thank you for reading. Sorry (not sorry) for dumping on you. You can block me if you want.