Bunker Life*

My hair is a mess, my bangs are too long to be down and too short to go back. I have hair like Ray in Star Wars but not in a good way – in a way that looks like it was done by a toddler with one good hand.

I feel like I am failing at a number of things right now – like why aren’t my closets clean and how come only half the laundry has been put away? Why aren’t I planking more often or taking free master classes? I have one totally arbitrary goal everyday – to get the coffee table cleaned off and I’m even failing at that. Actually I’ve failed so bad that I’ve finally hauled out the requisite pandemic puzzle. Its the puzzle that you do when your family doesn’t have anything left to talk about beyond what you are all having for dinner.

Its seems to be shedding season, or we are just petting the animals too much? Either way everything in the house is covered in multiple layers of fur. You open a door and the entire floor seems to move. I could vacuum everyday and still it would pile up. Just to be clear I do not vacuum everyday but I could… vacuuming is the worst.

Last Sunday Jason smoked a chicken and I spent the entire week making it in to different things – a pot pie, fajitas, salad… I hate this chicken so much. I thought that we would be prepared for the long term because we have a freezer full of chicken downstairs – I am currently regretting this idea.

Today Lucy asked me “how do you multiply fractions?” and “Mom, why are you drinking so much wine lately” I couldn’t answer either of those questions.

*Like thug life only more isolating

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