Columnists
Personal Pan-demic Face
I don’t want this to be another Pandemic Column, but it will be. You’ve been warned. Go for a walk, now, if you’ve had enough of my whining. The thing is, I’m really tired, and still afraid, of this Pandemic. I am as afraid, and as tired, of COVID19 as I am of Justin Trudeau’s shenanigans, and that’s a lot. I’m so over-the-top about these topics that I think I’m slipping into a bit of a funk, again. I haven’t been down-in-the-dumps for a while. Right now, just about every little thing gets on my nerves, including our “entitled” Prime Minister. This morning even the dining room carpet got on my nerves. If someone dropped by the house, and just happened to be looking for a big annoying carpet, I’d roll it up and shove it out the door. And I was going to add, “out the door at a safe distance, of course,” but I’m even tired of having to preface every statement of activity with how the event was achieved “at a safe distance”. Also, today, I am really tired of how truly un-photogenic I am. Cellphone photographs are not my friend. Maybe I do look like that, but I don’t want to look like that and I sure as heck don’t want to look at that. So, stop taking my picture, COM. Yeah, that’s right, I’m depressed and everything that’s ticking me off is really just little stuff. I no longer want to deal with the big stuff, although the dining room carpet is pretty big. I just want to pack up the car, get LOML to drive to a campground and tune out. Well, except that the comfort stations (the ones with flush toilets and showers) aren’t open to campers and, seriously, at my age there needs to be a comfort station nearby.
Being grateful for all that I have should be enough, right? I am very grateful for all of the goodness, good people and good things in my life. While I’ve never been the sea-doodle owning, Princess of Consumption my buddy Rick once called me, I am comfortable. We are comfortable. But these days I’m restless. I think I understand the phrase, “I want to have my cake, and I want to eat it, too”. Right now, I want to bake the cake, but the kitchen is too hot and, to tell the truth, I’m tired of all the home-cooking and baking I’ve been doing since the March isolation began. But I want cake. See where I’m going with this? I’m a whole lot like a cranky, little kid who needs a nap. I want up, and when I’m up I want down. My drink is too hot. My drink is too cold. Pay attention to me! Don’t look at me. I want poutine for lunch. I don’t want poutine. Come on, folks, we’re all there, right? We’re all a bit cranky. Or at least we’ve all been there for a moment or two in the last few months. LOML and I had a few of our children here, recently, to help with a repair project. It’s been difficult to get all of the materials we need for the project. I really should be happy because the kidlets are helping us but I’m annoyed because every other homeowner in the whole wide world is doing a bit of fixy-fixy at their home and their projects make it difficult for my projects to get done. It’s a hurry-up and take your time project. Wah, wah, wah, right? I am right. I’m in the serious whining phase of my own, personal, Pandemic Crisis. As with my crying face, my whining face is not a pretty sight. No pictures, please.
Right this moment, while I’m sitting on the side porch, writing another column about this personal Pandemic Crisis of mine, LOML recognizes my whiny face and brings me a steaming mug of caffeine. He knows. He understands I’ll just get a lot worse unless I get a real coffee to make my outlook a lot better. I’ve mostly avoided caffeine in the morning. For those of you who know me, and most of you couldn’t possibly, you know what a coffee person I am. But the early morning caffeine was wreaking havoc on my blood pressure so I decided to go decaf. ARRRGH. On top of the Pandemic Crisis I’m currently enduring, I don’t even look forward to the morning “cup of Joe”. I drink the hot brown water because it’s what’s on the breakfast menu. And then? Well, and then I whine about it.
This week has got to be better. It’s the last week of July. Am I right? I am. And, you!! Yeah, you with the cellphone poised to snap a pic. Put that freaking phone down! I swear to the gods of caffeine, if you click another picture of me while I’m whining, you’ll have to have a cellphone- ectomy.
This Princess of Consumption needs to consume some caffeine.
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