An Unscientific Timeline of the Plague
Work.
Write.
Puzzles. Buy puzzles. Trade puzzles. Talk about puzzles.
Birds.
Local masks? We’ll take 6 please.
It’s Friday?
Hoard stuff that will be available again in a few weeks.
Exercise.
Fuck work.
Tiger King
Bidet.
I love my Pax.
Cakes and muffins.
Read.
White Claw. Oh no.
Write.
Fuck puzzles.
It’s Monday?
Purchase squirrel-proof bird feeder.
Think about a new patio in the backyard.
Fuck exercise.
Learn about local businesses going online.
Get organic vegetables delivered.
Write.
Get seafood delivered.
Fuck the news.
“I’m going for a walk.”
I love my Pax.
Extoll the virtues of your bidet. Like really extoll.
It’s Wednesday?
New patio in the backyard.
Herbs.
“Shit, I forgot my mask.”
(half way through movie on Netflix/Prime/etc) “I’m pretty sure we saw this, like, last week.”
Lots of local gin. And more White Claw.
Find new app for local stuff.
We went to the museum! We’re adults. (It felt crowded, didn’t it?)
Fuck the birdfeeder because fuck squirrels.
Drive to country and jump in water for two weeks.
(I’m never going to bake. Luckily, my wife bakes and didn’t need a plague to start.)
I make a galette and that’s a start.
Fuck baking.
It’s August?
Why are there so many assholes?
Fuck social media.
I love my Pax.
RIP all the TV series that I had to stop streaming because they sucked just a bit too much.
Did I read that book already? I’m pretty sure I read that book.
More bourbon. Less gin. Almost zero White Claw (almost).
Idles are the best band in the world.
Q: “What kind of beer have you been drinking during Covid?”
A: “I ordered more White Claw.”
My Evernote Food Notebook has over 1,400 recipes.
Raised by Wolves
Fuck this shit.
OK, this made me giggle.
Checks calendar. Fuck.
Oh, look, that tree is turning.
