I’ve begun to lose track of the days.

Somehow, we’re nearly two months into the pandemic (technically longer since it was discovered last year?) and the whole thing has gotten mixed reviews.

On the one hand, most people have simply been dealt the relatively mild inconvenience of being forced to remain in their holes without seeing friends or family, to work remotely for what is likely the first time in their lives, and to rely more heavily than they would like on Amazon and Doordash for necessities.

“Necessities” - like a basket of buffalo wings even counts.

On the other hand, the death toll is gradually ticking upward like the number of seconds I’ve spent staring at my ceiling this morning.

Oddly, given the increasingly dire circumstances faced the world over, the governor has begun to “open the state back up.” I’m finding that I have mixed feelings about this, given that I a) would like to see my parents, and b) desperately miss going to the coffee shop downtown, but also feel a certain level of anxiety around catching the virus and, more importantly, passing it on.

The main argument in favor has been the drastic slowing of the economy - local businesses are beginning to struggle to stay afloat and those that can’t completely alter their model to include delivery are facing bankruptcy and closure.

I never thought I’d be considered a hero for ordering a family-sized portion of tacos for myself but here we are.

In other news, my apartment is looking more put-together. I was able to fit most of my books on the shelf and add a few tchotchkes here and there so the place looks a modicum less sterile. My armchair and settee (I always have to pronounce it with the most obnoxious posh British accent I can) should be delivered next week if the delivery tracker is, in fact, telling the truth.

The cats are thriving, by the way. I hesitate to say that they were unhappy while we were living with…him, but they genuinely seem pleased with the new arrangements. Tidbit and Beans have assumed ownership of the bed and Fuzz spends the majority of the day lying in the sunshine in the living room, presumably musing over the secrets of the universe. Or his next meal, which is possibly the same thing.

They have all been very fascinated with the typewriter, oddly. I had assumed that it would just blend into the background of their meager attention spans, but Beans will often sit on the dining room table across from it just…watching it. The other two will also stare at it periodically, especially if I walk past it.

There’s nothing technically wrong with this behavior beyond confusing the fuck out of me, of course. I just hate when cats stare at shit that isn’t something tangible like a spider or mosquito hawk.

I live alone, yall. Unless one of them happens to have a black belt in BJJ that I don’t know about, they need to quit trying to weird me out.