(With respectful apologies to blogger Leslie at Praying for Eyebrowz)
Barber shops are now open here, but I remain resolute that I will steer clear of such perilous primp. I am, however, noticing that the ‘ol eyebrows are taking a frightful turn towards Leonid Brezhnev and Andy Rooney-like territory. I can do this… I think.
A public health specialist writes that we need to start accepting the fact that this virus will be around for an extended period. She proposes some ideas for how workplaces should operate going forward. One of them is to eliminate communal areas such as break rooms. I personally applaud this. It might have taken a pandemic, but I think we’ve finally figured out a way to keep Marge in procurement from stinking up the office when she microwaves her leftover fish dinners.
The president recently questioned the utility of testing people for the coronavirus. Specifically he said, “When you test, you have a case. When you test, you find something is wrong with people. If we didn’t do any testing, we would have very few cases.” He’s right, of course; I felt the same way back in school. If we had been given no tests, I’d have received fewer lectures from my parents.
Our financial advisor continues to baffle me. With stay-at-home orders loosening, he’s predicting that people will be in closer proximity to one another again. He’s therefore proposing that we take 20% of the nest egg and put it into perfume and deodorant stocks.
Hear me now and believe me later: It’s gonna be Kit Kat bars next. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…
We bought a brand new car in early March, and this week the odometer hit 250 miles. At this rate, I assume the first tune-up and oil change will be in February of 2021.
Amidst all the bickering now about opening up or staying at home, there is some very sound advice offered by this wonderful Irish granny. I for one am submitting my credentials to her family to be formally adopted. Click here to watch her. If you haven’t seen her yet, prepare to be smitten.
A telemarketer called yesterday afternoon while I was sitting on the couch. Nice guy. We agreed to speak next week and catch up.
Airlines can’t seem to figure out exactly how physical distancing works in their cabins. Meanwhile, my inbox has a constant stream of messages from American and Delta, both trying to reassure and coax me to travel again. I’ve got news for them: it takes everything for me to walk into a Target store at the moment. No amount of warm nuts is suddenly going to get me on a flight anytime soon. I don’t care how many multiples of points you’re offering.
I had a feeling it might come to this: the below activity began recently in our home. The six readers of this blog might recall that our living room was painted only last year. These are not the best days for being a couch potato.
Good news/bad news: the Chinese takeout has reopened! My heart sings with the news, as wonderful, greasy egg foo young will once again grace the inner linings of my stomach. However, I also noticed that someone vandalized their door recently. There are some truly hateful, disgusting people out there.
Unlike some people around here (whose name I won’t mention out of fear she’ll hand me a paint roller), I have been mostly restrained with all of my online commerce. Slowly, though, I am developing an affinity for a site called Discogs. For audiophiles like myself, it’s a magical land of never-ending thrills and chills. Slowly but surely, very thin cardboard boxes have begun to arrive at our door. Discogs makes Amazon look like child’s play for recordings.
I should end this because I suspect there are eyebrow clippings which need to be cleaned from the sink. But do stay safe, keep washing your hands, and remember what my soon-to-be Irish granny says about following the rules.
Until next time…