The COVID Diaries: Most Things are Frivolous & Life Has No Meaning

Hello Darling Ones,

My nihilism has reached such epic proportions that I didn’t even watch the Golden Globes last night. While that might not seem like much to you, it’s kind of a big deal in the jodiverse. I love awards shows. A lot. I watch almost all of them, even for shit I don’t care at all about, and the Golden Globes is usually my favorite one.

There’s not a lot of appointment TV in my life, shows I clear my schedule to make time for — state of the union address, Top Chef, and the Golden Globes.

And last night I missed it. I discovered it was on when I checked into twitter after watching Bob’s Burgers and then deciding to zone out in front of a cooking show. I’m almost done with the Mad Men rewatch and I’ve been avoiding the last handful of episodes. Peggy’s loneliness at the beginning of this final season is too much for me to bear. In one episode she drops to the floor sobbing upon arriving home to her empty apartment and I was all, “fuccccckkkkkk Peggy, stop being me all the time.”

When it comes to the Golden Globes I’ve been known to postpone plans to watch. Hell, I even got ghosted at the start of a fledgling relationship because of the Golden Globes. For the record, I still think sports are frivolous. So are awards shows. Most things are frivolous and life has no meaning. Whatever.

Thinking about Patrick the Ghost has made me feel an eensy bit better about myself. It’s a welcome reminder that not only can I catch the interest of men I’m attracted to, but more importantly I’m a lot like Meat Loaf. I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that. In this instance that is giving up something I want to do for someone who has not earned the privilege of me cancelling my plans.

I needed this reminder of who I am. I’ve been pining away for someone who does not return my affection, and it has made me not my biggest fan. I’ve wasted oodles of thought and no small amount of sadness, which is kinda gross. When I get like this I start to think I’m some obsequious toadie who will do anything for a man’s attention/affection/attraction. Then things like this pop up in my memory, and I think oh yeah. . . I don’t totally suck.

Yes, in case you are wondering, I’m also like meatloaf the meal — not much to look at, but fucking delicious and comforting and goes well with gravy.

Mmm, gravy,

P.S. You know how people are always going on about how they thought quicksand was gonna be a bigger problem in their adult life than it is? You know what is a giant pain in the ass nobody warned me about? Filters. It’s the first of the month and I had to change ALLLLLLL the fucking filters. The Brita filter. The furnace filter. The filter that goes in my coffee maker. The filter in the humidifier. The filter in the refrigerator. Why is my life so fucking filtered?

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