Well, this last week has been the longest year of my life.

So much has happened since last week, and in my hood, people are still twerking on yachts and getting $15 bagels delivered, so we’re not on total lockdown yet. After one week of working from home and invading the dog’s personal space, here are my personal observations after being semi-quarantined for seven days:

  • Now that I don’t spend most of my days buying takeout, I literally have no idea what to do. Am I really supposed to cook all of my meals? In the last week, I’ve loaded the dishwasher 72 times. The week before? 2.
  • The dog is not with this AT ALL. I thought she would want to play toss while I edited copy and pretended to know HTML, but no. Instead, she just lounges around, giving me the stink eye. I know she’s pissed that she can’t nap on the dining room table and pee on the carpet in peace.
  • One would think I’d be sick of watching television, but I’m not. If anything, my capacity to stream has become stronger. This weekend, I watched an entire season of Criminal Minds, post- Shemar Moore- and I had already worked out before that! Just keep your “Narcos: Mexico” watching to daytime hours – I dreamt I was murdered in Felix Gallardo’s office Friday night.
  • I spend 3-4 hours per day thinking I have the Coronavirus. It does not help that I’ve had actual cold symptoms every day since Wednesday that completely disappear within 2 hours. Soooo, my anxiety has been fantastic.
  • I’ve never punched elevator buttons with my knuckles so hard and so frequently in my life. Forearms, towels, you name it- I ain’t using my fingers. And according to the notice in the elevator, I am also prohibited from hugging, kissing, or hi-fiving the staff. And don’t you try to workout or party in the dog park – that’s a safe space for the puppies!
  • Just when I was about to get it together, they decide to close the gym. Now where am I supposed to pretend I was going?? Oh, the pool was shut down as well – so you’re going to see pale Michelle on the other side of this thing. My apologies in advance.
  • I spend 94% of my day looking like in-game Joakim Noah.
  • I’m scared of my snacks. Someone on social media forced me to search for these ridiculous dark-chocloate Oreos . I can only eat one at a time – I’ve only had 4.
  • STILL HAVEN’T READ A BOOK. But I did make a faux-gourmet grilled cheese on Thursday.
  • All I know is this better not interfere with football. We can let Lebron-ball and baseball slide, but if this goes past August, we’re gonna have a serious problem.
  • This new update on my phone just happened to coincide with my decision to stay indoors. The phone alerts me to how many steps I’ve taken so far in the day, and I can’t seem to clear the notification. So my minute amount of steps are on my home screen all day long. Talk about a guilt trip. “You’ve taken 265 steps today – your goal is 10,000. Keep moving!” At 7am, it asks me if I want to go for a walk. “You haven’t recorded any steps – you should take a stroll” -bitch, I’m asleep!
  • Many people have expressed frustration on all the emails they’re receiving emails from companies that they have relationships with, like banks and flower shops discussing the coronavirus. It makes no sense – like yes, I feel so much better that the laser hair removal spa is concerned about my bikini line during this difficult time.
  • And don’t worry, that chest pain you’re having has nothing to do with the coronavirus- it’s probably just a fart.


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