Lose a Fatty

Status: Possibly comatose or narcoleptic? But technically still alive and kicking Mood: Weary Snacks: The only healthy thing I ate today was applesauce. I think the existential dread of the COVID-19 pandemic hit me fast and hard in these past 24 hours. I'm sleeping so much, and when I'm not sleeping I'm eating. Clearly this can't continue, but no one really prepared me to live through the plague. There was no Plague Survival 101 in college. I didn't excel in Girl Scout survival-type activities. Most badges I earned were for reading, learning about history, cooking and sewing. Sure, I earned some camping badges and even one for horseback riding (shiver), but I was convinced both experiences were designed specifically to kill me. I am not what you would call brave. Keep Calm and Carry On? Pffft. More like There's Always a Reason to Worry. It's exhausting. I wonder if you move through quarantine stages like you do grief. First you calmly shop for food

Status: Alive (yay!) but super tired (why?) Mood: Everything is normal. (WTH? No it's not.) Snacks: Chocolate cake isn't a snack if you eat it for lunch. This morning, I awoke to the dulcet sounds of Air Supply ("All Out of Love") on my Alexa alarm, still basking in the glow of a dream where instead of hunting fruitlessly for flour I was talking with a nice, handsome human male. Still feeling pretty perky, I threw on some clothes and ventured downstairs to make a chocolate cake before work started. I zoomed in to the team meeting feeling like it was a normal Tuesday. It isn't NORMAL Susie! What is the matter with you??? Our brains prove remarkable in their ability to adapt, and somehow mine thinks Google Hangout parties and not going anywhere for more than a week are simply what we do now. And it's OK with that. This adaptation is probably what we have to do to survive insanity, like this news that it's OK to kill our parents and grandparents to

Status: Alive and a little tipsy Mood: Fine. Everything Is Fine. Snacks: Finished my generic cheez crackers. Had some potato sticks. Found a cider for virtual happy hour. Today marks the end of Pandemic Week One, a period of time that has somehow lasted approximately 435 days. I'm settling into the whole being in the house alone thing, but I also find I'm engaging in activities like yelling at people out my window to comment on their dog's cuteness. (True story. Also true: the owner was weirder than me, even considering that I was yelling out a window.) I think, like the rest of the sane people in America, I'm concerned about what comes next. Not just how long will this last, but will everyone I love be on the other side of this? Will there be another side? What will the economic fallout and (I hope) subsequent recovery be after America basically closes? But most importantly, will I ever be able to buy bread flour again? Oh, you think I'm kidding, but i

Status: Alive, Sneezy, Less Headachy, Generally More Alert Than Yesterday Mood: What pandemic? Today's Snacks: A reasonable portion of generic Cheez-It. I should stock up on these things. <Prays that cheese snack crackers don't become the new TP and hand sanitizer.> You'll recall that I decided to draw a line under yesterday and hit reset today. Shockingly, it was much more successful than the attempts I once made with my finances. I arose from slumber slightly later than I'd have liked, but logged in and started working at my normal time. The sun streamed through the window on my left. The birds chirped. I ALMOST forgot that people all over the world are dying. Honestly,  it was kind of blissful. Basically, today I gave myself a huge emotional break. I'm super lucky to have a job I can do remotely, and I'm trying my best to keep things "business as usual." But the truth is, there's nothing usual about what's going on right now.

Status: Alive, but sluggish. Slothish. Still have this effing headache, probably from the sky falling on me. Mood:   Potato Famine Irish. Today's Snacks: Aldi knock-off Cheez-It, some sort of addictive potato sticks, possibly a Little Debbie. The day ain't over. Day Two was a bad day. Day One was kind of novel, like the novel coronavirus that has me locked in my house away from the world and coffee shops and other human contact. But a better novel. Sort of like oooh, this is a fun opportunity to explore my inner self, set a schedule and come out a better human on the other side. Day One Susie had a sense of adventure and optimism. She imagined returning to her office in a few weeks slightly slimmer with a bulleted list of accomplished tasks to her name. Day Two Susie hates Day One Susie. What an perky asshole. Anyway, reality has set in. Long lines for booze and the absence of toilet paper on shelves have made me realize that our society consists primarily of alcoholic

Status: Alive and mostly well. Convincing myself that a three-day headache is normal. Mood: Oddly optimistic Today's Snack: Reese's egg. I'm only human and life might be shorter than I'd hoped. With the world crumbling around you, it can be hard to find any kind of joy in life. Oh hey, it's another day in my house alone and people are dying from a disease we PROBABLY could have helped not spread if only our inept government had paid attention to warning signs that even this writer saw ages ago. And idiots have bought all the toilet paper and disinfecting wipes because apparently no one cleaned their houses or asses before last week. But I digress. Anyway, today was my first "work from home for who knows how long" day. I generally have one remote day a week and I work on the couch. But staring down the barrel of an unknown quantity of such days disconcerted me a bit. How long, for example, can one wear pajamas? Days? Weeks? What's the best wa