I’ve Given Up

How many quarantine blog posts have we all read at this point? Too many to count, I’m sure, but it’s good venting, right? Today has gotten away from me. In an hour I have to start the tedious task of making dinner. Again. Every single evening, they want food. Not only do I have to make dinner, but I have to make two separate dinners, because God forbid the kids eat the same meal as the adults. They might actually discover something tastier than chicken tenders. Does any such food exist? We don’t live in the 1950s in this house and my husband is by all accounts a much better cook than I am. He makes most of our meals, does the grocery shopping and even makes a menu for each day of the week so we know what we’re having and who’s cooking. A menu, I say! Today, though, I am feeling overwhelming guilt that I should cook since he’s been alternating between working for money in his office and working for free outside. He is truly a gift from the heavens and I wouldn’t expect much husband bashing out of me on this site. The kids, though, are fair game.

We’ve done the school thing today. We’ve gone outside. We’ve had lunch and approximately 67 snacks. Well, they have, not me. I’m hoping to still fit in my work clothes when this is over, I’ve gotten a little too comfortable with my steady fashion diet of leggings and hoodies, but that’s a whole other conversation. We’ve walked the dog and rode scooters and bikes. Again, them, let’s not get crazy. I give up. They’re on their own. I keep telling them that I am not their cruise director and they should go see Stacey up on the lido deck for an activity, but they either don’t understand, or they just don’t think I’m funny. Probably both. This attitude always bites me in the ass in the end, of course, because when they find themselves something to do, it is never good. Life with boys. Their current activity is an obstacle course (gee, thanks for the idea, P.E. teacher. I really appreciate that one). My living room is a veritable smorgasbord of bad ideas and injuries waiting to happen. I no longer care. I think I’ll just make them put on helmets. Oh look, they are timing themselves on their iPad. And now they have laser guns. There’s sports commentary. See how creative they can get when you ignore them? Annnnd they’re recording the whole thing. At least there will be actual evidence that it wasn’t me who broke one of their arms. Good times.

In between helping these monsters with school, I have been mostly on the computer trying to do my own work, the kind that pays for their emergency room visits. My company has decided, upon getting the OK from our governor, that we will slowly get some of our locations opened up and I am coming off furlough to help get everything together. Hooray!! I get to leave the house! Oh wait, there’s no school and my husband has been working this entire time. I guess the governor also wants to take my kids while we’re both working then, right? I mean, he seems OK, I’m sure they’ll be fine. Oh, shit, who’s going to homeschool them, though? Does everyone love this as much as I do? That they can just send everyone back to work when there’s no school? Hello! There isn’t a stay-at-home parent in every home these days. Please join us in the 21st century. But, I digress. See? Just a little hissy fit. I’m OK now. Anyway, I have spent the day reaching out to employees, putting out feelers to see who is and isn’t comfortable coming back to work. We will be making exceptions for people without childcare, but is every company doing that? Somehow, I doubt it. Mine just happens to be awesome and very family-friendly. I know I’m privileged in that regard. In fact, I will only be part time until the boys start camp in June (I’m not a praying woman, but if there is a higher power, I will give up wine if camp is not canceled. That’s right, I said it). The process of contacting employees has given me a headache. Believe it or not, my children are not the cause of my Advil habit today. My work email was disabled and my access to company websites that we use on a daily basis was halted at the beginning of the furlough period, understandably so. They can’t have people working and not getting paid. I mean, that never happens. I have to have a list of people ready by the end of the day because it takes 72 hours to un-furlough someone. My initial contact was met with enthusiasm, people dying to get out of the house. Yes, please! Take me back! I was soon met with retractions of said enthusiasm, “Well, I’m not sure I’m comfortable.” “I don’t have child care.” “I’m making more money on unemployment.” Just kidding about that last one. Kind of. Can we just make up our minds, people???? So, I gave up. I’m doing this instead.

I thought it would be fun to detail my return to the world next week. I have not been anywhere in quite awhile and I have no idea what’s waiting for me out there, besides what I see on the internet, and it looks bad. Since my husband has had to go out to work this whole time, he has been the only one to go to the store and run other various errands. While I don’t want to give up my place of work, let’s suffice it to say that I will be seeing the public. The company is supplying us with personal protective gear and are going to be requiring customers to wear masks. We will even be providing disposable ones at the door for customers who don’t have their own. As someone in possession of the internet, I know what we’re up against. This should be fun. I can’t wait to tell you all about it. I’ll try not to be too dramatic. See what I did there?

Well, after approximately ten minutes, the boys have abandoned their obstacle course and have resorted to putting a laser tag target around the poor dog’s neck. I should save her, but she seems to strangely be enjoying it and there is also the small detail that I have run out of fucks today. My next move will be telling them to pick up all their shit; that should go over like a fart in church. Wish me luck. I guess I should go make dinner now. Fuck it, I’m ordering pizza. Join me tomorrow, where I catalog a fun day of homeschooling, cleaning and laundry. I’m kidding, I would never do that. The assholes who refuse to wear masks are on deck for next week, though. Stay tuned.