Away with May (yay?)

So, Memorial Day has arrived, and…wait, what? Well %#$@, there’s another month gone in Coronayear. Anyway, at least the world didn’t actually end when NC lifted restrictions on 5/8, so there’s that. Then after 2 weeks of apparently meeting enough criteria to consider it moderately successful, this past Friday we moved to Phase 2, with businesses such as restaurants, salons, non-essential retail, and…tattoo parlors being allowed to operate at 50% capacity. (And not a moment too soon, as you all know I’ve been desperately waiting for the moment I could rush out and get some ink! Stop laughing—it could happen! Yeah, you’re right: maybe in another lifetime…)

Aaand within 24-hours the state health department reported the highest number of single-day positive tests since this whole thing began, so we’ll have to see how this goes. (I realize that part of this is due to more people being screened, which represents a step in the right direction, blah blah blah…I’m still not rushing out to…gallivant in public…just yet…) 

Meanwhile, here at Casa WestEnders, the crew has been carrying on, fortunately safe and well. In probably the biggest news of the week, Riley finished the last of his (four!) AP exams, and with that, effectively wrapped up his academic year. Because the remote learning situation forced the assessments to take place online at home, Riley thoughtfully posted signs on his bedroom door to alert the rest of us that he was busy with an important task and shouldn’t be disturbed. Except, you know, for the fact that Derek and I stood in the hallway checking them out and giggling each day--but the way I look at it, he brought that upon himself by being too clever for his own good.

Now all that remains is the one regular class in his schedule, and his teacher is so on top of things that she’s posted the content for the rest of the quarter. Basically, he can tackle it whenever he wants, at which point he’ll be totally done. When that happens, it’ll be “bye bye Junior year…hello, college application season?” Ay yi yi…at least we have a Summer hiatus before all those…shenanigans! 

And speaking of intellectual pursuits of a sort, while we’ve always been a family of bibliophiles, (yeah, I just like that word. So what?) with extra time on our hands during the Stay at Home period, we’ve turned to books even more, both for entertainment and to help pass the time. The only glitch in this scenario is that, of course, the libraries aren’t open for browsing or borrowing materials in person. Lucky for me, I’ve been able to snag a couple of titles on my Kindle, both through the ebook catalog and Amazon lending policy, but everyone else has kind of been scrounging for stuff to get them through, until we can happily peruse the aisles in one of our favorite local buildings once more.

As a result, in the interim I’ve probably purchased more actual novels in 2 months than I have in the past, oh, at least 5 years or so. Honestly, it’s become almost a problem behavior—I pass by the literature section in Target, spot something recommended by a favorite author, and impulsively toss it in my shopping bag. Or, a blogger I follow on social media helpfully reminds her audience that the prequel to The Hunger Games is coming out…and mentions that if you order it from [this website], some proceeds will go to support the independent bookstore she’s opening soon in her hometown. Click, done! Then there’s a trio of writers whose work I’ve appreciated in the past, who each provided a novella for a collection, and who one day announced on Twitter that signed copies were on sale at this [small publishing company] for a limited time. Ahem…add to cart, enter payment information: GIMME! But…it’s okay, I can stop at any time, I promise! (I’ll let you know if I need an intervention…)

Oh, and the point of all this--before I went off on a meandering tangent--is that one day Derek was lamenting not having anything to read, so I began passionately trying to sell him on one of my absolute most-beloved series from recent years. I described how the author weaves an intricate storyline, creates imaginative settings, and fills her pages with fascinating characters you can’t help but care about—whether you love or hate them. I concluded my enthusiastic spiel with what I thought would be an utterly irresistible hook: “And besides, it features on of my favorite warlocks of all time!” Which stopped the conversation dead as he threw up a “whoa” hand and commented, “I’m gonna stop you right there…that has to be one of the nerdiest things you’ve EVER said.” (Eh, I own that. Incidentally, he’s in the middle of Book 1, and reports that he’s enjoying it so far, so I feel like I rest my case. Also, I won…) 

In further evidence of living up to the aforementioned label, I may as well go ahead and confess that for Mother’s Day, I asked for one thing: a crossword puzzle book. I was very transparent with the Male Trio, to avoid confusion or mis-ordering: NY Times is too hard; USA Today is too easy; Washington Post Sunday is juuussst about right. (I also answer to “Goldilocks” on occasion…) And whattya know, they nailed it. One down, 149 to go…and I didn’t even have to peek at the answer key. So to sum up: amusing myself while keeping my brain from atrophying during the pandemic means COVID 0, Johna 1. (Ha! Take that, stupid virus…)

Next, we move along to the Goofball Brothers, who luckily have been a pretty reliable source of laughter while we’re all stuck in the house together. For example, one morning last week Derek blearily emerged from his bedroom and bumped into his sibling, who immediately began to make fun of him for his late rising, his disheveled appearance, his general lack of purpose in life, whatever. Derek of course grinned and took all of this good-naturedly, but after he’d woken up enough to fight back, he jokingly demanded that Riley go away…and make him breakfast.

Specifically, he requested waffles (the frozen kind, ‘cuz let’s not get all crazy here)…with fresh berries. Well…you send your younger brother, who’s just left off mercilessly mocking you, by the way—downstairs to the kitchen to prepare you a meal, with no oversight whatsoever…what could possibly go wrong?

Now, Derek doesn’t always--how can I put this delicately--“think things through”, until after he’s said (or done) them. So as Riley gave him a sly smile and trooped off to (maybe?) comply with his wishes, Derek’s mental process caught up with him, causing him to suddenly yelp and call, “Um…please toast them?” Yes, he was just starting to recognize the many, many ways this could turn into an unmitigated disaster. Yet when he joined us at the table a few minutes later and cautiously inspected his plate, he discovered…a lovely serving of multigrain waffles, topped with syrup and artistically covered with sliced strawberries. It was only after he’d taken a bite that Riley admitted his one unauthorized modification: apparently he’d added a drizzle of my honey underneath the fruit (which doesn’t sound bad to me, but prompted Derek to throw a faux tantrum--probably the intended goal, frankly…).

And finally, even though hair styling places are now permitted to welcome clients back, I personally am in no hurry to book an appointment. That being said…my bangs were sooo out of control that something needed to be done. Thus I brushed off my trusty scissors, tried to remember what my stylist showed me months ago when I told her I sometimes cut my own fringe, held my breath…and snipped. 

And you know what? For an emergency, temporary job, it’ll do. It buys me about a month before they start driving me nuts again, so by then, I believe things will have settled down enough for me to feel comfortable going to see a professional. The shaggy boys, on the other hand, are going to brave Great Clips sometime this week before they have to get updated passport photos taken…which will immortalize this pandemic look for the next ten years! So yeah, sending them to those who are trained and know what they’re doing, for sure!

So that wraps another episode of the Evolving Quarantine Gazette, my friends. Let’s all keep our fingers crossed that the coming weeks bring an increase in positive news, as well as continued health and safety to you all. Until then, I plan to carry on with the reading…crosswording…mediating of adolescent nonsense…and perhaps grooming (whenever necessary). Peace out!

Moving forward...with baby steps...

When NC moved to Phase I of the reopening process on May 8th, what promised to be in theory the most heralded--and potentially impactful--event of this past week turned out to be...largely underwhelming in reality. However, it did stir up a host of conflicting emotions, at least for me. One the one hand, it felt long-awaited and much-anticipated after approximately 2-1/2 years of lockdown.* (*Suspects this can't possibly be right...checks calendar to confirm...counts...SIX. WEEKS? Are you freakin' KIDDING me? Holy guacamole, the time/space continuum is all the way messed up right now, yeah? Sorry...back on topic...)

So there was palpable relief at some of the restrictions easing--if only because it implies a shift toward "normal", whatever that may mean (more on that later). However, the announcement also seemed to cause a not insubstantial amount of (understandable and appropriate, in my opinion) nervousness about the possible repercussions to public health and safety.

And what, you may wonder, actually happened when the governor officially modified the Stay-at-Home order? The short answer, for Team WestEnders anyway, turned out to be: not a whole heck of a lot, to be honest. I mean, the only retail outlets I've been frequenting during all this...nonsense...are supermarkets and Target, which were always accessible anyway. And seriously, who needs to buy clothes during a pandemic, amiright? (With the exception of obvious necessities like socks and underwear....which can be obtained online. Because we may be chill on the majority of the rules, but let's not go complete nudist, 'kay? Your colleagues/fam/friends on Zoom are supremely grateful...)

Like many other of my fellow humans, I've leapt wholeheartedly into the "24/7 leisurewear culture" and have no plans to transition back to...um..."dress-up apparel"...until absolutely required (and then, only grudgingly. I've gotten used to being soooo comfortable. Can we just agree that this will remain as part of the "improved 2020"? That'd be AWESOME...)

We did get to celebrate a belated Mother's Day by picking up dinner from one of my favorite local eateries, which as a small independent entity had chosen to shut down entirely for a while during the crisis, until they felt it was worthwhile to resume service. Pretty much as soon as they started cooking again, I was able to fulfill my 2-month craving for their super-yummy nachos, so muchas gracias to Carrburritos for the comida deliciosa!

Next on the To Do List, the only thing that we jumped to take advantage of was the fact that the T-Mobile store was allowed to return to seeing customers, albeit with the updated sanitization and distancing protocols in place. This came at a very fortunate time for us, since we'd been pushing our 2-3/4 year old phones to continue functioning for as long as possible before spending money for upgrades...but the boys' and mine had been growing more and more rebellious, until I'd finally had enough and was ready to make the switch.

Of course, this involved a trip to the actual brick-and-mortar building, so we could meet with a representative in person to discuss our options and facilitate the transfer to the new models. Now...in truth, three of us could have done this remotely, and been completely fine. But Husband...well, let's just lump this in the category of "fears change" (which he freely admits, and is utterly unrepentant about)...so rather than having to be his tech support staff, we dragged him along to talk to an expert. (I even offered him a pass--since he doesn't use his phone nearly as much or as intensely as the rest of us, and he wasn't having any issues with it--but he was afraid of having to go back alone at a later time and pick one by himself. Siiighhh....I almost got away with it....)

So I secured an appointment via their online portal, and at our pre-arranged time, we pulled up to the door, were greeted by a friendly employee...and informed we'd have to wait outside until the people currently being assisted finished up and left. Okay, we get it--until an HOUR later, when we were still hanging out on the sidewalk, and I was ready to raise a ruckus. (Memo to T-Mobile: are you aware of how scheduling works? Because trust me, this is NOT a good example. Signed, Disgruntled Client.)

Frankly, if I'd been there solo, I would have left long before that ridiculous amount of time had passed, but since I had the Male Trio to entertain me, it was bearable. (See "Mask 101, What Not to Do".) It also gave us a chance to address a subject that called for some group input: what to do about our planned Summer getaway. You see, I'd gotten an email from Expedia earlier in the week, letting me know that the carrier had cancelled the flight I booked in January (before the viral apocalypse), and moved us arbitrarily to a much earlier departure (which I had specifically ignored when searching, because, you know, getting up at 5 a.m. to rush to an airport does not put us in our happy zone).

I wasn't thrilled with the alteration, but I noticed (in the wee tiny print below the much more prominent red updates) that due to the global....situation...they were allowing refunds...which NEVER happens. This provided some interesting food for thought, since for once we'd have a zero-penalty escape clause, to reshape our vacation in whatever form felt right during this (I'm gonna say it) unprecedented period.

When I broached the topic with my gang, it came as no surprise that they very quickly expressed a unanimous desire to cancel our original expedition. Because this is how their scientifically-leaning brains operate, they backed up their subjective statements by citing reasonable concerns (that I share, incidentally), such as uncertainty about whether the things we want to see and do will even be open for sightseeing, and "being trapped for multiple hours with hordes of other travelers inside a flying germ box" (I...the token dramatic member of the group...MAY be paraphrasing...).

Thus it was concluded that we'd postpone Arizona for now--but I also asserted that, especially given the stress and anxiety and aggravation and...all the other stuff this year has dumped on us so far--we needed to substitute SOMETHING for our family jaunt. "Even a road trip," I commented encouragingly, "We haven't done one of those in a while!" Riley instantly jumped on this and exclaimed, "College visits! What have I been saying all along?"

Well whattya know...he's not wrong, folks. He'll be a Senior next year (chokes), filling out  applications in a matter of months (gasps), and is considering a couple of schools he wants to either see for the first time, or re-tour now that he's closer to the point where it actually matters to him (Ooh, now we're talking about the FUN part--count me in!). Once the committee--er "family"--put our minds to it, an itinerary formed fairly easily...with obvious question marks such as "exact dates they'll allow prospective students on campus" to be filled in when such information is determined.

But the tentative format will include stops in Greenville (Clemson), Atlanta (Georgia Tech), and Gainesville (University of Florida)...with other cities and/or attractions thrown in along the way to keep us amused as we see fit. Now all we have to do is wait for things to calm down, COVID-wise, so we can get out there and, I don't know, invade the South, or whatever! (Wait--in a totally friendly fashion! You know what I mean...)

And there you have it...even if nothing else happens during this somewhat unsettled Phase I, at least we should have fresh, well-behaved phones...and a get-the-heck-outta-Dodge excursion to look forward to in a few months or so. Yay for....rolling with the punches? Sure...and don't we all deserve a big old cookie for getting to this point? Resilient...and sugared up--now that's what I call a Win/Win!

My circus....my monkeys

For today’s Quarantine Report, I’ve selected a few choice tidbits from the Male Trio’s highlight reel--focusing on some of the preposterous ways they’ve been lightening the mood and dispersing the gloom around here…simply by being their (mostly lovable) goofy selves.

For example, now that the college kid is home from SC and back with us 24/7, Riley has volunteered himself as an...interactive alarm clock, if you will. You see, left to his own devices, and with remote learning mostly being “on your own time”, Derek defaults to getting out of bed somewhere in the neighborhood of 11:30…or so. On the other hand, the high schooler—who typically rises before 6 to commence his first workout of the day--deems this unacceptable behavior which must be fixed...by whatever means necessary.

Thus the following ritual has slowly been honed over the past month, until it’s become the standard by which you can set your watch: no later than 10:45, Riley barrels through his brother’s bedroom door, bellows a greeting (more Drill Sergeant “rise and shine you lazy slug” than friendly “good morning wake-up call”), and flings open the curtains to brighten Derek’s hibernation cave. Oh, and if these measures don’t provoke enough of a response to satisfy him, Riley will even resort to the drastic extra step of yanking off Derek’s covers. So to sum up: he’s startled out of sleep…suddenly chilly…blinded by the unexpected burst of light flooding his space…and insulted, on top of all the other indignities.

Now, you might think being roughly dragged from slumber like this would spark some kind of vicious (and perhaps deserved) retaliation…and in most cases, it probably would. (Ahem…like ME, for instance. If anyone ever tried that s…tuff, consequences would be swift and merciless. Just sayin’…) But Derek…just blinks sleepily, yawns, stretches, and starts talking to his sibling, as though this were a completely natural way to kick off one’s day. (Once again, thank all the stars above for my one super-laid-back child!) Then, once he feels that Derek’s thoroughly roused enough to leave his cozy lair, Riley returns to his own activities and allows him to carry on in peace.

Meanwhile, in my “office”, which happens to be situated right next door to all the… hullabaloo…I glance at the clock and go, “Huh. It’s already that time again? Alrighty, then--seems like a good point to step away from the computer and take a quick coffee break.” I’m telling you, it’s that predictable…and if you really think about it, a public service as well! (Not entirely sure Derek would see it that way, but whatever…)

If I’m being honest, many of the boys’ exchanges these days involve some level of good-natured taunting—even if they don’t usually start out that way. Such as the other day, when they were in the kitchen chatting with one another while Derek foraged for a nosh (every 2 hours, also something you could set your watch by, if you were so inclined). In the middle of the conversation, Derek jokingly lobbed a pretzel rod over to Riley. Since he hadn’t requested this and didn’t want it, Riley gently tossed it back. But rather than just, you know, catching it and either eating it or replacing it in the container, Derek opted to try batting it sideways into the sink instead.

Well…you can only imagine how spectacularly this FAILED…resulting in an impressive explosion of crumbs and shattered pieces that spread and landed all over the floor.

Of course, the dorkasauruses instantly erupted into hysterical laughter. After my initial shock in which I stood paralyzed gaping at the…shrapnel…I marched over, snatched the bin of pretzels away from Derek, firmly replaced the lid, stowed it in the pantry…and ordered him to his room, AFTER he picked up each and every stray bit of food from his mess. (Hey, if you’re gonna impersonate a 4-year old…)

He at least had the grace to hang his head and attempt to appear contrite—although the smirk he couldn’t quite wipe off his face somewhat negated the effect. However, as soon as I turned my back he tried to fake-stealthily sneak a few more, to take upstairs with him during his banishment. When called out, he protested that he needed the…pocket pretzels*…to get him through. (*NOT. A. THING.) I wasn’t going to permit the crumbly snack in his carpeted domicile anyway, but this became an absolute taboo when, as Derek was passing his sibling to make his way to his time-out, Riley shot his hand out to smack him...and in a stunning display of pinpoint accuracy...scored a direct hit on the hidden treats... thereby reducing his not-so-secret stash to powder. (And to top it all off, Husband wandered in after hearing the uproar, settled himself against the counter and brightly inquired, “Ooh, family meeting? Did I miss anything?” Siiiighhhh….Bless. Their. Hearts…)

That brings us to what we’re going to call the Great Breakfast Debate of 2020. For background, 

Derek has been eating Dinosaur Egg oatmeal every morning for years.  (I know, I know, 20-going-on-toddler. What can I say? It makes him happy…) However, I recently noticed that he wasn’t going through his current box very quickly, so I asked if he wanted me to get more. He considered for a second, then replied, “Nah, I need to branch out.” So when he was picking up a few things at the store for us, he got himself some frozen waffles.

When he was almost done with these, I offered to replenish his supply, but asked if he’d mind the multigrain version, rather than the less nutritious kind he’d bought. He gave me a slight side-eye and huffed, “Ugh. You’re gonna make me eat healthy?” Then his expression took on a sly cast as he added, “Okay, then…can you also get me Nutella?”

Mind you, this is by far not a new debate, and he’s well aware of why I stopped purchasing the hazelnut spread a looong time ago: A) because it’s a sugar-bomb and B) um…I was incapable of staying away from it when we kept it within reach. So I groaned inwardly at the potential impending controversy, but countered with what I thought was a perfectly reasonable alternative, “How about I find you some chocolate…peanut butter?” Frankly, he probably recognized that was the best he was going to get out of me, because he considered only a beat before agreeing to the terms. (And when he tasted what I purchased for him, he proclaimed it a worthy substitute…even if not a...blood-glucose-spiking thrill ride. [I'm paraphrasing, obviously.] So…we’ll call that a Win?)

This was not the end of the story, though—the next thing I knew, Husband had jumped feet-first into the…Battle of the Morning Meal. I entered the kitchen one afternoon unprepared for the 2-pronged assault led by Derek, who cheerfully decreed that he and his father “wanted control of the cereal decision.” Given the fact that I do approximately, oh, 98% of the grocery shopping for our little band of….well, mostly ravenous dudes…I didn’t even pause before shooting back, “Fine! You’re welcome to be in charge of everything you guys eat; I couldn’t care less!” (Hmm...overreaction? Yeeeaahh…perhaps the ongoing pandemic is taking more of a toll on me than I realized…deep breaths in and out…phewwwww….)

This seemed to alarm Derek, who threw up his hands in a placating gesture and rapidly backpedaled, “Hey, whoa, let’s not get too crazy there. We’d just like some sweeter kinds mixed in once in a while.” When I turned to glare at him he grinned, spread his arms wide apart and added, “You know, a big old box of…Crunch Berries!” He knew this would push my buttons, which of course is exactly why he said it, but I couldn’t help myself from snapping, “Aaargh! So what you’re really telling me is that you want JUNK first thing in the day?”

Fortunately Husband spoke up at that point, inserting his Voice of Reason in a calming fashion, “All we’re saying is that we’d like an adjustment on the…fiber-to-flavor ratio!” Oh. Good. Grief. It’s a losing campaign here, folks: either they’re being over-the-top ridiculous…or they wield logic and science at me. Please send help ASAP…preferably in the form of another X-chromosome to join my Girl Squad! (Anyway, they haven’t been out scouting yet, so I don’t know what they’re going to come up with; but as promised, I’ve washed my hands [Ha! Sorry...] of the whole affair. So there!)

And finally, speaking of absurdity: sometime this past week Riley wandered into the kitchen and blurted, “Guess who just changed their sheets for the first time in 2 months?” With the smuggest possible expression, he dramatically used both thumbs to point at himself and answered his own rhetorical question, “THIS guy!” Which naturally cracked his brother up…and caused me to drop my forehead into my hands…as I’m sure he 100% anticipated and intended.

So in conclusion…when this whole lockdown-thingie eases, and it’s safe to resume some semblance of our previous lifestyle, I’m gonna need a different kind of recovery…one in which I self-isolate for a couple of days…ALONE. Maybe a solitary room…at a spa somewhere…for a weekend. (Right, not realistic. How about a shed in the back yard? I’d totally settle for that…) For now, I’ll continue my role as moderator of (faux) adolescent squabbles…overseer of culinary choices…and general wrangler of Team WestEnders. Yep...I’m gonna need a NAP! (Aaannd maybe some of Derek’s special cocoa/peanut butter combo….shhhhh! Let’s just keep that between us, ‘kay? Thankyouverymuch…)

Keeping calm (eh, mostly) and carrying on...

Hey, fellow humans out there on Planet Earth (waves hand in a vague but super-friendly manner towards all of you)! According to the useless cardboard indicator still hanging on my kitchen wall, it looks like we made through the first full month of the alternate-reality video game we’re all trapped in together…Pandemic World (1-star, NOT RECOMMENDED). At this point, don’t you think we deserve to be honored with a freakin’ Black Tie Gala to acknowledge how we’re maintaining our all-out assault on the vile microscopic enemy?

Hell yeah, we do! Except of course without the, you know, “proximity to other people”. Ooh, and who wants to dress up these days—or frankly, is even sure if anything still fits after 6 weeks of excessive sheltering in place—and eating? So yeah, comfy clothes only. (Fine, deck yourself out in a coordinated outfit of black sweats if you want to feel all “glam”. The rest of us will set the bar for…let’s see…yep, ”clean” should do it…) And makeup? Pshhhh, that’s sooooo 2019, amiright? Okay…where does that leave us? Right: a VERY festive global Zoom call to congratulate ourselves…probably on the couch…definitely in leisurewear…100% with snacks. Whoo hoo, who’s in!?

Anyway, speaking of celebrations that have been verrrry different in COVID-Era, like Derek a couple of weeks ago, I kicked off another year around the sun…quarantine-style. Now, I don’t usually indulge in a whole lot of hoopla on my birthday anyway, but this particular milestone obviously was even lower-key than the norm. Not that there weren’t lovely surprises—such as the completely unexpected giftbox, filled with delicious fresh fruit and trail mixes (some of which included chocolate…I mean, do they know me, or what?), sent by my fabulous northern fam.

Working hard!

Or the hilarious cards the Male Trio cooked up, filled with sentiments such as “We’ll even let you be in charge of the house today” (Riley), “Eat all of the kale chips and almond butter your heart desires (Derek), and “Here’s a ‘never been outside, untouched by other human hands, hasn’t been exposed to Coronavirus’ card to wish you a germ-free happy birthday!” (Husband) (Ahem…bless their hearts…) As for the traditional “dinner of choice”, we found ourselves in an unusual--yet fortuitous--position: all 4 of us in the mood for pizza at the same time. We will take that win, y’all…YUM! 

Next, we have several other entries in the category we’ll call…Where the HECK is the Time Going? First, I got an official email notification that, because in-person meetings are still suspended, this year’s presentation for Rising Seniors would be offered in a virtual format, with the slides and videos viewable from your very own home computer. It took me a second of staring at the screen to realize…they were talking about Riley…who is now mere weeks away from finishing 11^th grade and (GULP) moving on to his last year of High School. What. The. WHAT? I mean, I’m fully aware of this, obviously—and have for quite a while. But the processing of it is going to take… a bit longer, apparently.

And...hardly working!

Thus he and I agreed on a time to sit down and go through it together, just in case there were any new pearls of wisdom to be gained since Derek navigated these waters several years ago. And this was an admirable proposal in theory…except that what actually happened was that Riley and I settled ourselves into position near the office computer…and Derek wandered in behind us as well. Evidently he had nothing better to do at the moment than hang out with us and A) make light of the college application process (“Hey, I got in; how hard could it be?”); B) disparage the information provided (“Ha! Who cares? I never did figure out how to log into my Naviance account!”); or C) distract Riley by chatting at him on a completely unrelated topic, thereby ensuring that his attention wasn’t on the material, even a little bit. (“College football, my Stats homework, what to eat for snack, blah blah blah” Siiiighhhhh…)

Oh well--while this session didn’t turn out to be particularly…educational…I can always go back and watch/read stuff later if necessary. Or better yet, if questions crop up, I’ll assign the Junior to figure stuff out and report back to me—now that’s a plan!

And then, there’s the college dude, who’s been managing his messed up Spring semester in online-remote-learning fashion—accessing his instruction modules, recorded lessons, and live lectures when required, submitting assignments, taking tests, and whatnot. In this novel setup, his LDOC (cool kid speak for Last Day of Classes. Or maybe only Moms use it…I’m not really sure, to be honest…) came and went without fanfare.

Now he’s in the midst of Final Exam Week…albeit in its modified format. But here’s the truly astonishing part—to me at least: on Tuesday, when he finishes his last assessment…he’ll be halfway through his stint at the university. I…can’t even begin to understand how this happened. (Yeah, yeah—I’m speaking metaphorically. Because trust me, I have the receipts to demonstrate his progress through each of the first 4 semesters, but I’d rather not dwell too much on that, thankyouverymuch…)

Even more mind-blowing, according to his transcript, he’s technically a semester ahead of his scheduled graduation date, since he came in with some credits from AP classes, carries a little extra in his major due to the labs associated with science courses, and hasn’t had to drop anything so far (knocking on wood, etc.). Not that we’re pushing him to finish up early, or anything crazy like that, but Jeez, Louise! 

It’s all just…a bit overwhelming, is all I’m saying. So I think what I’m gonna do to cope with all this…emotional distress…is put all that aside for the time being, step away from the Disney+, change into some Outside Pants (elastic waist soccer-type gear—very practical right about now!), and go for a nice, long stroll in nature. Besides, that way when I get back I will have earned some of that nuts-and-cocoa trail mix I mentioned (It’s…um…chock full of antioxidants! Therefore it’s definitely health food. This logic is infallible--fight me…) Uh-huh, that’s what we’re going with…can we all agree that sometimes denial…and its equally esteemed cousin, avoidance…really are the BEST self-care? Yay!