Here's the rotting bench to which I referred in yesterday's post. Can't compete with photos of sexy ex-wives and happy children. Why do I bother? For that matter, why am I still writing this blog? I live in a vacuum and can merely report or opine or lament or whine. I have nothing interesting happening to me, no stories I can tell beyond the making of a solo dinner.
Blog stats reflect this, too.
I did have my first human contact yesterday, however. The little Russian Jew was the first person to lay hand on me since February. Like Nancy Pelosi, I was the only client in the salon. Unlike Nancy, I wore a mask the entire time. So did my beautician. We were alone in the salon.
But I didn't do anything weird.
I told friends I was going to get blonded. They wanted pictures. So I sent them from the salon, me with foils in my longer hair. I have to say, it was cute. The comments coming in were fun as I have not seen any of these people since February and my hair is much longer now. When it was all done, I sent a selfie of my blonde self out. The boys sent deprecating comparisons to non-flattering famous people like the old wrestler, Dusty Rhodes, or to Nick Nolte, but the girls gave me thumbs up. Fuck yea. I'm like the Silver Surfer, baby, with the Power Cosmic and the Love Supreme.
He is the weirdest Superhero ever.
Now I wait to see if I get Covid.
As I've mentioned, I've been out of sorts lately. I've only just awakened after waking at four and not getting back to sleep, or so I thought until I was brought to consciousness by some hideous truck in the street outside my house just a few minutes ago. My body is still numb. I can't wipe the sleep from my eyes. It is late and the wrecking crew comes today. I have to get the bedding in the wash and pick up all my delicate messes before they arrive.
It is Friday. You who work look forward to a long Labor Day Weekend. Covid cases will be on the rise a couple weeks from now. There are no good predictions about that. We are looking to an uptick in disease and death. Prepare for the Virtual Holidays. Things are going to get worse.