How To Quarantine: A Heady Isolation

I am scared by the state of the world also, dear reader, but you didn’t come here to fall back into the hopeless pit of COVID-19. You came here, dear, sweet reader, to laugh at my expense–and oh boy has this isolation given me some material to work with.

Haven’t let you down yet have I? I thought not.

As a writer, or perhaps more accurately, because I write the way I do, my lot in life is to bring some chaotic good to the people who choose to read. It is with this in mind that I continue to confound, annoy, and embarrass myself in the midst of a pandemic.

Not to worry, dear reader, I am doing this from the (relative) safety of my own home. The seriousness of all of this is not lost on me–we all use humor to deal, so chill out. You know you laughed at that COVID meme. Don’t lie to me.

All this and still I can get into plenty of trouble whilst sheltering in place. The idle time has actually lead to some hilarious blunders taking the form of attempts at “bettering myself as a person.”

If you feel bored, hopeless, painfully stagnant–you’re in good company here. I am all of those things; so much so that eating baby carrots has become an activity. Seriously, like I do this for fun now.

I thought I might compile a list of things I’ve been doing to keep myself busy, albeit still nuts, in a world of social distance. I promise upon the first read you will judge me, but when you can’t sleep at 3 am because you napped all day, you’ll be thanking me. I guarantee it.

How to Have a Heady Quarantine :

1. Teach yourself ukulele, practice for hours, then overhear your roommates complaining about the “horrible noise.” Cry briefly in the shower, and decide that now you will only play when they’re gone. Which is never. Because quarantine.
2. Bake cookies, but eat so much of the raw dough that you lose the both the motivation to bake them, and to continue living.
3. Watch four seasons of The Great British Baking Show, and then call your mom with advice on how to properly bake bread–though you couldn’t even manage the cookies.
4. Lay on the floor in preparation for for a hearty workout, crunches and all, but fall asleep for an hour instead. At 2 pm.
5. Fall down a Youtube rabbit hole so thoroughly that you can, with confidence, tell anyone who God forbid asks, who truly sang various Broadway bangers the best.
6. Read Sylvia Plath and rediscover the depths of your depression. Remember the oven thing, and decide that maybe it was a good thing the cookies never made it there.
7. Resist the urge to nap, moderately successfully, by dwelling on all the wrongs you’ve done, and all those who have wronged you. Begin plotting.
8. Ask a friend to explain a quote that mentions quantum physics, and receive an answer in 7 parts that is so beautiful you you stay up till 4 am thinking about it.
9. Become confused.
10. Google “how to suck a dick like a porn star.” Regret this and hate yourself briefly, then rally and congratulate yourself for you’re limitless thirst for knowledge.
11. Write someone’s name in calligraphy. No joke, here. It’s rather soothing.
12. Get crumbs in your bed. But not cookie crumbs–oh no. You just HAD to eat the batter.
13. Brush the crumbs from your bed onto the floor, pretend not to see them, and vow to vacuum as soon as you’re SURE you don’t have the virus. Even though you’re already sure. Just as a precaution.
14. Wash your hands in different, and increasingly fun ways–like using only your mind. And soap. And water. And your hands. Don’t be an idiot asshole.
15. Read or reread this blog. I promise you’ll laugh more at my expense, or at least feel better about your own, isolated life.

Cheers, dear reader. Take care, please. The world will wait for you.