Disclaimer: I’m going to describe a family situation that irritated me. I’m only doing this because Toronto’s strict lockdown measures are getting us all beyond frustrated, plus the weather has turned much colder making outdoor activities a little less enjoyable, meaning we spend even more time inside together. I’m just saying, we’re all feeling the strain of being together so much in this small house for so long (10 months and counting). Read with a grain of salt. Don’t pity me, I’m fine. And be nice with your comments. 😉
If you’ve read here a while then you know I like to write fiction. Some of you know I write erotic/romantic fiction. Lately, I’ve been on a roll with a particular story that is now into Chapter 10, and I’m not done.
I write at the dining room table facing the open concept kitchen in front of me. The living room is to the left of me.
The family is not here for the most part – the husband teachers his college students in his basement office, the kids are plugged in to their virtual classrooms in their basement rooms.
I take those moments when they’re schooling to focus and write. All good so far, right?
Disclaimer: This is a rant about covid. If you live in an American State or some nation that is open for business as usual, please don’t comment here with a political agenda. You can comment if you want, but think twice before you hit publish if you’re going to tell me how you had a steak dinner in a restaurant or went to a party at some club or how all your stores are not going out of business because they are all open and functioning as normal. I don’t give a flying fuck crap which way you lean in terms of your political orientation or covid and I don’t want to engage, or have my readers engage, in a political pissing contest on my platform. Please and thank you. I’m just ranting here to get the unfairness of all this crap out of my system. #SorryNotSorry
My email exploded. There’s a bunch of messages coming through from the hockey manager. My teenager, who is 15, has played competitive hockey since the age of 4. This is probably his third last year of playing competitive – after he graduates from grade 12 (he’s in grade 10) he will probably be done. Unfortunately, this year has been nothing short of a clusterfuck.
I rarely wear jeans. I used to as an 80s teenager because that’s what teenagers in the 80s wore, but nowadays? Nah.
I especially don’t wear jeans while committed to the house like some common criminal on house arrest during this endless covid-fiasco. I usually wear tights or yoga pants, something comfortable and easy and, you know…stretchy. Continue reading “2020 can shove it”