Toilet paper: 27 still.
Pets: Dog, Hamster, Mouse, 2 fish tanks.
Well, first work sends me home… now the state of California demands I stay there. Only essential personnel are supposed to be out on the street right now.
I’m reading stories that people are trying to RETURN their toilet paper… because, after turning their home into a facsimile of a hoarder’s den with cleaning products, food and hand sanitizer, they realized that perhaps they’ve gone a little overboard. Costco, with their pretty amazing return policy, was like ‘Nah, you gotta live with what you did.’
Malaria medication was supposed to be our next hope in battling COVID 19, then it was decidedly rejected when more people died or ended up in critical condition than the actual virus caused.
My neighbors think it’s the perfect time to party, shooting off fireworks like it’s no one’s business. And ice cream trucks have been spotted in my neighborhood. They somehow have it in their minds that they’re essential personnel and must be on the streets… to help support American obesity.
On the one hand, the world is having one massive panic attack. On the other (i.e. my little neighborhood) it’s business as usual.
I’ve realized that while sitting and writing for a few hour stints at a time was perfect for my computer desk, sitting in that chair for eight straight hours was equivalent to some sort of torture to my entire body. I managed a good 4 four hours of sitting in my chair before I ninja dusted over to my boyfriend’s desk and commandeered his. I left him my chair… but he noticed. And while he allowed me to keep his chair for a few days (he’s great like that), I know he’ll become immune to my pleading face. Also, he’ll resent using the torture device I left behind for him. So, I ordered a new chair from… you guessed it… Costco. It says it’ll be here in a few days. We shall see…
Boyfriend got notice from his work they’re shutting down his office for the foreseeable future. I didn’t think anything of it. He said they were giving everyone an hour to grab everything they needed from their labs to take home. Again, okay, you do you, boo.
I now have 1,000 fruit flies taking residence on my dining room table. See, my boyfriend works with fruit flies (Drosophila Melanogaster) and when he told me he was going to pack up his lab real quick, I didn’t expect we would be playing host to a bunch of flies. But someone had to keep them alive!!! He’s like some sort of mad scientist. The flies are in large vials and locked away. But Boyfriend also said he’s going to have to transfer them into new vials.
“Will they get free?” I ask.
“Some will.” He shrugs and starts laying out the things he needs like it’s completely normal to transfer flies and not kill them.
He didn’t explain further. How does one prepare for the fly-calypse?
