The COVID Diaries: Procrastination Nation

Dear Darling Ones,

I skipped the presidential debate last night, and I’m angry about it. This might have been the first debate I missed since Clinton vs Bush I back in the early 90s. I didn’t expect to be angry about skipping it, but as I’ve said before the anger is a river of white-hot lava that is constantly flowing just below my surface and it can erupt at any moment.

Last week I asked my friend EM if all 40something women throughout history were just rage lava in women’s bodies or if this is something unique to GenX or maybe it’s this moment in history. I don’t know. I’m still pondering it all.

I’ve got lots of pondering time now that I’m back in Spinster City. I have officially ended my self-quarantine and expanded my bubble a bit. Maxwell & my mom came for dinner on Sunday night where I served the best homemade chicken noodle soup I have ever made in my life, which is saying a lot because I’ve made chicken noodle soup a ridiculous number of times. And Monday I had a socially-distant coffee with my BFK in the garage. I hadn’t seen her since August and we sat in my garage for 4 hours talking. It was very nice

Anyway, instead of watching the debate I watched TikTok. Sister #2 got me hooked on this vile drug and I’m currently nursing half a dozen crushes on bisexual GenZers who are literally half my age and talk so candidly and openly about stuff. I want to kiss them all. There’s also a few gay bears that have hooked my heart. And all the fat girls who never read Nothing’s Fair in Fifth Grade and it shows because they are beautiful and positive and radiant and take zero shit and I love them too. I would give my entire left arm to have that kind of confidence now, much less when I was in my 20s. The youths, man, they’re just everything.

Today I’m procrastination nation. I can’t remember the last time I have procrastinated this hard for this long. I have a deadline which keeps inching back and back and so my desire to do anything falls lower and lower. I mean I do some stuff. There’s TikToks to watch and Disney Emoji’s to blitz, and so much beautiful dappled fall light to just look at out the window. I love the light in autumn it makes my heart happy. However, the sun has disappeared right now and it’s kind of grey and boring.

I realize I am babbling here, Darling Ones. It’s a coping mechanism. Just like the procrastination. And the TikTok. It’s all shiny objects to keep me from thinking about the state of the world and how absolutely terrified I am about the US finally collapsing into total fascism in November. That’s on top of my fear of winter and being so isolated and alone.

Instead of actually thinking I listen to Tori Amos’ “Precious Things” over and over again so I can marvel at the “So you can make me cum, that doesn’t make you Jesus” line and remember singing “Silent All These Years” with Whitley over hot fudge sundaes in the McDonald’s parking lot the summer of. . . 1994?


Yours ’til Niagara Falls,

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