I Think The Sun Is On Team Quarantine, Or At Least Not On Team ‘My Own Personal Comfort.’
Good morning, sweeties! It’s Monday and I am nursing a sunburn from the mere hour I spent in the sun, and it’s official that my pale Canadian hide has decided it prefers being indoors, and translucent. On a related note, clouds are jerks and burn you secretly, and nature is exacting her revenge on humans wherever and whenever she can.
But hey, getting outside and sitting be-masked in an empty park with 10+ feet of space between us meant I got to visit with Friend of the Missive Tre for an hour and that meant the world for my mental health. For those wondering whether or not that is a good idea, The New York Times has an overview of the risks associated with visiting friends outside.
In other things that keep me up at night, and if you need an overview of just how politically insane the last 72 hours have been, Tim Miller has an excellent and terrifying overview over at The Bulwark: Trump’s Weekend of Scandal Was Hiding in Plain Sight. Come for the quote tweet of an alt-right twitter account, stay for the firing of another inspector general, hyperventilate into a paper bag over conservative content farms producing disinformation at a furious clip, all day, every day.
In related news, in that I think about it to distract myself from the simmering political catastrophe on our collective horizon, I need a haircut so badly and I think that’s going to be the first thing I do when I am able: When will we get haircuts again? Beauty experts weigh in on the future of self care.
I like this piece: The Great Asshole Fallacy. Please note: I do not follow sports ball and haven’t watched the referenced show on Michael Jordan, so a caveat that I may be 100 percent missing the point on this…
And finally, can someone tell me why I’m reading about people (allegedly) quarantined with ghosts while I live by myself in an apartment built prior to the 1906 earthquake? DOES ANYONE THINK THAT’S A SMART IDEA? Sigh. And of course this got me going down a ghost reporting rabbit hole, and now I’m reading this creepy story from 2018 on a house in NJ… I am truly my sleep’s own worst enemy.
Kick this week in the tush. And be kind to each other, ok?