Covid: Day Whatever.

This covid is kicking my ass. I find myself places that emotionally I don’t want to be. Childish anger. Needless frustration. Ungrateful imprisonment. And the desire to have simple processes like the ability to smell and taste my food.

I’m not in a pleasant place. I’m trying to stay positive for my sickly daughters. They are not only feeling what I’m feeling but they felt it before me. I’m almost taking their lead on what today has in store and how crappy it will be. Their patient demeanor is fodder for maybe the most important lessons of my life.

I’m annoyed that people I want to hear from are silent. It furthers my ideals that they never cared in the least to begin with. I’m frustrated with those that aren’t offering what I want: to be on the level. And then it just mirrors how much of a baby I can be. And that, in turn, lowers me from frustration and annoyance to self-destructive capabilities and mindset.

I want to make cupcakes but I have under a cup of icing sugar for the frosting. Not only reality but a metaphor for my life at the moment. And the icing on this cake? I won’t be able to taste them anyway so what is the point.

Oddly, there is a point. The same reason I ordered pizza last night for dinner. None of us can taste it so it seems really stupid, right? But see, the mind is more remarkable than I’ve ever taken the time to notice. The point is the guilty pleasure. To spoil ourselves in this super uncomfortable and claustrophobic time.

Even though I can’t taste the meat, cheese, sauce or crust my brain tells me via my mouth and tongue what I’m consuming. I remember vividly what each flavor is supposed to taste like and that’s what makes it enjoyable or as enjoyable as it can be.

I find myself smelling things with vigor, trying to somehow kick start that sense on hiatus. I put my whole face in the bag of lavender epsom salts and for a second I did get a fraction of a scent. Nothing has pleased me more that I can ever recall. I can now die fulfilled.

When I look in the mirror I see a greasy, unkempt, unshaven, half naked guy who might just dress to the nines tomorrow to save myself some indignity. The ongoing summer long heat wave intermingled with the delta variant isn’t wearing on me well. I kinda don’t care but equally this isn’t how I want to spend my summer vacation incarceration, looking all covidy and whatnot.

The house needs to be cleaned. We all need to get outside and do something. Life needs to move forward but for the next 8 days that just isn’t in the cards. As this disgusting virus swims its way up and down my bloodstream I would like one thing made abundantly clear: don’t you get it.

Stay away from me. But for goodness sake reach out to me.


One response to “Covid: Day Whatever.”

  1. Pump that vitamin D and C!!!! Call in all the bone broth makers and get them to deliver! Check out nebulizer’s and food grade hydrogen peroxide! You got this

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