Caterwauling

Idea for a screenplay:

You drive up to one of those places that is giving out boxes of TP, water, eggs, chicken and Clorox wipes.

They put it in your car and you drive off.

You get home and find a dead hooker in your trunk. Strapped to her is a case of N95 masks that the government is in hot pursuit of and there’s a tracking device on the box and you don’t know it and try to give them to healthcare workers but the tRump administration doesn’t want you helping the greater good and sends his goons after you. Hilarity ensues.

Call it “National Stockpile.”

OK that’s all I got. Too much Dateline and wine for me.

Actually it could be the prequel to the “Saying Goodbye to Dawn” plot I foiled. Where a “researcher” who solves the case gets foiled by my spot-on intuition. Dawn visits her college friend in Vegas and hits the jackpot.

New career, ahoy!

Not just quarantine. Although, that too.

Had a great leadership call today. They value my experience and opinion. And gave me a big, fat project.

Edited a beast of a document. Tamed it into submission by version 5.

Had a great team call today. Where the writer of that beast thanked me in front of 14 people for having the instinct he didn’t at the time of writing. (We got the data on the call to back up my instinct.)

My boss thanked me for making a big difference in a short time.

My niece sent me a sweet gift that she made with her mom during their quarantine. This is the best part of the day, no doubt.

The happy halfwit who blasts his “God Bless Amurrica” music when Grey’s is wrapping up can’t get his signal to hold.

I got to see my little trick-or-treaters.

Morris and Magic

And I’m me.

Glorious day.

Someone asked on dah Twittah what the first thing is we will all do when we get sprung from self-confinement.

Financially, nothing has changed. What I used to spend at Ross and TJMaxx goes into cat and bird food.

(Birds love cat food. It’s exhausting trying to keep 37 of them from it for the dozen kitties who deserve it.)

I still work and I read up on tarot. Play with my crystals. Wear essential oils instead of Chanel. Wear makeup less but I will always match my clothes to my headbands and shoes.

I tweet more, blog more. Not taking topic requests, though. Festivus ended in December.

I don’t binge-watch TV shows; I’m barely caught up on 911, This is Us and Grey’s Anatomy. I canceled Hulu after Handmaids jumped the shark.

My coven leader just scheduled some Zoom calls. So that will be fun. Now to remember to attend on Saturday.

Actually as for returning to a normal that will never again exist, I’d like to move. I’m happy here so it’s not a rush. I mean, if you’re gonna be quarantined, having a view of the Intracoastal Waterway is pretty fucking stellar.

I miss the gym too. And the salad bar at a local place. And lunches and happy hours. And Target. Definitely Target.

I still win quarantine.

I have been singing “Stacy’s Mom” 20x daily for the last two weeks. Great handwashing song.

So I’m a little rattled that the songwriter just died from coronavirus.

OTOH, are there any tRump-related songs I can sing?

Halfwit neighbor across the way plays a song at top volume every night from 9:55 p.m. to 10 p.m. Usually Lee Greenwood. They all clap and hoot and holler. Like they’re at a MAGA rally.

I’ve shouted across the tidal basin to knock it off. (This fucker ruins the ending of all my shows. Also, that’s a tRump anthem if I ever heard one.)

They yelled back to fuck off. In a sleepy retirement community. Classy.

Maybe I’ll play some “Stacy’s Mom” tonight at 9:54.

Was trying to strike the right tone on a coronavirus article.

So I thought, well, what are people going through in my circle?

* They’ve lost an income or two, their ability to pay April rent, their freedom to go for a walk. Their daily Starbucks. Their social life.

* They’re homeschooling their kids for the first time. My friend said it’s harder to find sidewalk chalk than TP.

* They’re 330,000th in line for a test. Testing started yesterday and we only have 750 a day to administer. By appointment. In the Florida heat.

* Their mom is in a nursing home and they have to stand outside the window to wave at her. They had to deliver a TV for her because she didn’t have one in her room, and she couldn’t even give a thank-you hug.

* You cannot tell me stores aren’t raising prices. I just paid $25 for TP and paper towels. Four rolls of each. From highway robbery to grand larceny in one sneeze.

* You also cannot tell me that the hospital by me with an empty parking lot isn’t filled beyond capacity.

* I know an employee who is terrified of getting fired for bringing in his own PPE. And wondering how to get by if he has to leave for some reason (quitting or worse).

* And don’t even get me started about living one mile downwind from a crematorium when they start shipping bodies (with forklifts, a friend up north was telling me, in his area, because there are so many).

* They can’t get through to the unemployment hotline and it’s not like you can stand in line anymore. So hey investors, jobless claims were pretty good at 3.3 million last week.

* With orders to stay indoors extending into June, everyone’s mental and physical well-being is at stake.

I said we could just run this: