Honestly, I’m a little surprised to see I haven’t written here in six days. Seems like it’s been three max. Perhaps because on more than one occasion this week, I’ve finished lunch clean-up/internet farting about around 2:00, settled down on the couch to ‘read’ a bit, and woken up around 4:30, just in time to start thinking about what I’m going to make for dinner. You would think a person would get bored of so much sleeping, but even by lunchtime each day, my jaw and foot are quite sore, so apparently, despite not getting out of the house much, I’m flexing all the time.

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Twice since quarantine, I’ve taken a bath, and if you are able, I highly recommend! Usually baths bore me and make me vaguely feel like I’m serving myself as soup. Plus, with California’s drought conditions, it’s a bit of a self-side-eye indulgence. But lately, it has been exactly right, as it’s been rainy AF all day, and I can open the window above the bathtub and cool air pours down on my face, in nice contrast to the steamy water I’m in. Now you are in a bath with me in your mind! Quit hogging the soap.

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You may be aware from Anne posts in other quadrants of the universe that we have two cats. One cat is the absolute absence of human relatability. She likes to cry at the door for attention, then sprint away when you come out. She does not like to be touched and will slinky her spine to keep you at a minimum one inch distance from her fur at all times. She doesn’t like eye contact. However, she does like to pet you. I like to think that according to her world view, she is the owner and we are the pets, and therefore she is simply doing her job of minding us.

Maybe it’s the strange and constant rain, or perhaps her secret understanding of current events, but this cat is exceptionally needy these days. Here is a small clip of her petting me.

I went inside after many minutes of being attended to, and promptly saw on twitter that a tiger has been diagnosed with Covid 19.

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Because I had my phone out, here’s a photo of a grocery store spring onion I planted a while back and then forgot about.

I’m verrryyyy curious as to WTF is growing underneath, but also not wanting to kill it just for curiosity’s sake. Like, what am I gonna do with a softball sized spring onion – slice it up for dinner?

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Related to the above mentions of body tension, I have been wearing my bite guard in the day now. Not all the time as was my practice the first week of isolation, but definitely before I get on the couch to ‘read’ these days. Usually, my prep for the guard goin’ in is to brush my teeth, brush the guard, pop it in my mouth, go about my gnashy boxer-style life.

A few afternoons ago, I went to the bathroom to put it in. However, on this occasion, had just eaten a Vitamin C and was reluctant to mix that up with some minty toothpaste. After a moment’s hesitation, I bypassed tooth brushing, and only brushed clean the bite guard before putting it in. I don’t judge myself. Or at least, it seemed hard to judge myself on this issue while also wearing three-day-old sweatpants and rocking a unibrow.

As I’m sure you know, smells are memory triggers. Putting the bite guard into my unwashed, vitamin redolent mouth immediately triggered all these memories of my late grandmother’s breath. Not that her breath was bad, just distinctive, very much associated with her personal chemistry, my childhood memories of her leaning over me to assist in some way, both our heads together, working on a common problem, like what was in her purse, and might I find some hard candies in there? Or me sitting in her lap as she admired my new toy.

But I must also say, having the memory of my grandmother in my mouth was THE MOST UNSETTLING thing that has happened to me in a lonnnnnnng time, and if this is what haunting is all about, that’s a hard no from me, dawg.

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I got some really terrific advice on boundaries with my mother last post, and I wanted to publicly thank all of you for your wise and measured suggestions. I read them all, obviously slept on them, and found you all quite helpful. And I’ll have you know that in the end, being  non-confrontational-to-the-point-of-cowardice, I did nothing. This is completely on me and my lack of character rather than you and your reasonable plans. She hasn’t texted me every day since. But yesterday, she did send 21 messages plus 1 GIF and 5 photos of her back yard.

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My youngest kid’s birthday was a few days ago. We made her a Peep cake with Oreo cookies again this year because that’s how she likes to roll. Both years, she’s been the Peep landscaper, and I suspect her design is mostly about how to get the maximum number of peeps on the cake. But to me, they always look like they are having an emergency Peep meeting on how to get the fuck off Oreo Island and avoid being eaten. Spoiler alert: They never figure it out.