Wasting time wisely

(Yes, I’ve been tracking the election count, and yes, I’ll have more to say here about that. Later. ‘Cos every time I think about commenting before the race is called, I hear Toby Ziegler in my head: “You want to tempt the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing?” So mum’s the word—for now.)

Anyhow, on the domestic front, I’ve got a day off today. In fact I have a few 3-day weekends coming up during November and December. We can thank COVID for that: Mr. Mezzo and I were planning two fun getaways during the spring (1 to DC in March and 1 to Boston for May) but neither of those happened—of course—on account of the world shutting down.

Those 2 cancelled trips add up to more than a week of vacation time I didn’t cash in, and since my company has a strict policy regarding how many days you can carry over from year to year, I’ve got some time to burn. So: 3-day weekends galore!

Close-up of a mirrored disco ball.
Celebrate good times, come on!
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Keeping a tight grip

I’ve written before about sometimes using home manicures as a small gesture of self-care—both during COVID and in the before-times.

Though let’s be really real: my skill level, as far as the application of nail polish is concerned, is low enough that calling my efforts a “manicure” is giving myself WAY too much credit.

Nonetheless, I have, in other times, enjoyed painting my nails. It helps me feel pretty and expressive. And it helps me keep from biting my nails—a lifelong habit.

Key modifier here: in other times. Nowadays, I have begrudgingly made peace with the idea that I am not likely to paint my nails until after we have election results.

So: December some time.

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Picture of Sherri, a Caucasian human, with a snarky smile pointing to herself with both thumbs.

Where has the time gone?

Yeah, I was gonna do this whole COVID Diaries thing, wasn’t I? If you’re a writer who knows you’re living though history, it would be a good idea to capture some of that daily history along the way, am I right? ESPECIALLY if you’re a blogger who kinda specializes in doing lightweight socio-cultural analysis.

(Here’s the place where I’d usually hit the “read more” command to put the rest of this post behind the jump.* Of course, I can’t find that command in the new editor, nor can I find a way to get back to the classic editor. 2020, why you gotta do me like this? I am seriously gonna step away for a bit to regain my composure before continuing.)

Picture of Sherri, a Caucasian human, with a snarky smile pointing to herself with both thumbs.

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Pandemic Brain

Tomorrow marks 7 weeks in home isolation for me. As of today, the US remains ahead of the rest of the world with 824K cases and 45K deaths. My home state of Massachusetts is holding down the number 3 spot in the country, while my home county is holding down that number 3 spot within the state.

(Here’s a screengrab of Google’s stats dashboard for corroboration and context.)

Screen Shot 2020-04-21 at 8.12.33 PM

And I am still incredibly fortunate. Every few days brings more individuals in my extended friends circle who have contracted the disease, but so far they have all been able to recover—and recover at home. And (knock wood) everyone in my immediate family remains healthy and safe in their different homes and locations.

So, really, no legitimate reasons to complain.

And yet, I gotta say it: I’m not doing as well as I was when this all started.

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A Tiny Dose of Paranoia

This has been a brutal week for me and my spring allergies. BRU. TAL. The sniffles! The sneezing! The perpetually runny nose! Those uncomfortable bits of dry skin that build up where one’s nostrils meet the upper lip, on account of all the nose-blowing caused by the sniffles and congestion….

Oh, was that a bit TMI? #SorryNotSorry

Of course, during these surreal COVID times, there’s also all the symptomatic second guessing.

woman mask

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Rainy Days and Sundays

I saw one of my college classmates post this on Facebook earlier today:

Rainy days and pandemics always get me down.

Which, funny enough* was something I’d been thinking to myself even earlier in my morning.

Chalk it up to another generational marker. Karen Carpenter and her brother, Richard:

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Living in Hollywood Squares

So how many of us are seeing variations on this theme over and over again throughout the day?

1024px-Bradybunchphoto02

(Honestly, I’m of a generation where my preferred metaphor would be The Hollywood Squares. But I couldn’t find an openly licensed picture from there, so the Bradys will have to suffice.)

Alternately, if you are of my generation, you might have a certain theme song running through your head whenever you log onto a now-ubiquitous teleconferencing software package.

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