I had to kill off the “Friday Food” drawer in the fridge that I mentioned.

The situation was, shall we say… “rapidly deteriorating”.

My calorie counting app reminded me, yesterday, that I had logged in for over 300 days.


A sobering motherfucking thought, given my animosity towards it. The app sends me an alert, my eyes narrow, and I’m like: “Ugh, what do you want, you daft cunt?”

“A quite necessary evil”, I would call it.

Yes. Definitely that.

As time goes by, and our lives are made small and quaint by so much time at home, I can’t help but remark on how, more and more, trivial things become worthy of note and/or excitement:

“Was that a knock? HOT DOG! I bet that was the blanket I ordered!”

“That sounded like a firecracker. Or a gun. Or maybe… both!”

“Thanks, man. Yeah, um, they’re decent sunglasses, I guess? I think I just got them off Amazon, or something. Like $30, maybe?”

And then, of course, there are the tepid thoughts that take shape in a world which only quarantine could bring about.

“Tendrils? It has branching tendrils that extrude and infect other cells?”

No, I’m not doing anything. Yes… I will help you run that strike. No, Thorn isn’t actually worth all the quest steps. But yes, I shall still help you, regardless. Just… let me… unstick myself from this chair real quick.”

I have heard many people speak at length about the struggles they’re dealing with as this whole… thing… progresses.

It’s true that we have no frame of reference for it.

It’s true that it complicates a good many things, across the spectrum. Have you had to mail a letter yet, during all this? Forget it. Don’t even try. Instead, buy a blanket, and figure out a system of smoke symbols to communicate your message.

It’s true that shit outside is fucked.

It’s true that the government has handled this in the worst way it could be handled.

It’s true that some people have resorted to speaking to their elderly family through glass, as an understandable precaution.

What more can I say?

Gotta roll with the punches, right?