Dispatch from Quarantine

Today has mostly been a drawn-out argument with the paper cut on the tip of my right thumb. It’s deep and painful and I’m sick of it holding my thumb hostage. I miss being able to use my thumb.

I also have three other paper cuts across my two hands because I spent a long time on Sunday opening mail that I had let pile up. All of it was unnecessary (hey everyone, if you send me an electronic bill, you don’t also have to send me a mail bill), and when I say it was piling up, I do not exaggerate. I opened a lot of it so that I could shred it, which was the responsible thing to do, but now I feel like I’m being punished??

I don’t know how anybody is keeping track of how many days we’ve been in quarantine. The days fuzz together, peppered with snoozed alarms, conversations with my cat, neglected emails, walks sometimes, glasses of wine, and the occasional mascara for trips to the grocery store. My quarantine began with ambition and I even worked out at home a few times. I’m no longer working out at home. Everyone’s social media posts made me feel guilty about that for a minute, but I have since stopped giving a shit. Morale is at an all-time low and that’s just the way it’s going to be right now.

Eli and I signed a lease for an apartment in Portland. It begins on April 30. That’s in 9 days. (I’m not moving until May sometime.) I’m so excited I could puke. I’ll break this down in a digestible form for you: we met in 2017 in Costa Rica; we became good friends pretty quick; we became more than good friends at some point after that; he moved home; we broke up; I moved home; we were 2300+ miles apart and broken up and talking frequently; we got back together last May; we’ve been doing distance and traveling back and forth to see each other since then; we’re moving in together in May. Whew! Nothing about the progression of our relationship has been “normal” thus far, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing. But boy oh boy am I ready for Facetime boyfriend to become IRL boyfriend.

I’m heartbroken to leave the people here who’ve been my constants. I cried a little bit about it yesterday. I love them. Still working on feeling pure happiness and sadness at the same time. They will still be my constants, and I, them. My ppl ❤

I started selling some of my furniture on Facebook this week. Can someone explain why getting ghosted by a total stranger who was interested in buying your coffee table stings so much?

I hope Donald Trump gets a paper cut tomorrow.

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