These uncertain times? That’s it? That’s what your BAs, MAs, MBAs and assorted other degrees gave us the last two-plus months?
The last thing these pandemic times have been are uncertain. Most of us have become quite certain, in fact. Of a lot of things.
We’re certain Madison Avenue’s attempt at endearing sentiment has become the most overused, irritating copout-catchphrase of the entire pandemic. It is the marketing equivalent of a cotton swab through the nasal cavity. Except every five minutes.
We’re so, so certain.
We’re certain our spouses are hatching plans to kill us – and not in painless and humane ways, either. But slowly and painfully, showing us the bottle of Arsenic as they slide the remote control out of our freshly disinfected hands.
We’re certain we haven’t worn pants since the first week of March. Or closed-toe shoes. We’re certain we, in fact, will NEVER get to that one thing in the honey-do, because not even a stay-at-home order got us off our fat asses to finally do it.
We’re certain we’ve gained 15 pounds and can finish a fifth of vodka in one night.
After wine with dinner, of course. We’re certain algebra is over-rated, no one needs to know a damn thing about the Magna Carta and sending kids to their rooms to play video games counts as an elective.
We’re certain we can now judge the bouquet, depth and texture of Lysol and Fabulosa better than we can a Napa cabernet. We’re certain our dogs are going to need therapy for separation anxiety.
We’re certain we may never again pull weeds nine consecutive days. And we are beyond certain that we never – ever -- again will interact with that nice couple we see on casual walks every evening. Because, of course, we won’t go on any more casual walks. Why? Because. And because Arsenic.
So as America gradually begins to see the light at the end of the tunnel, as sports take baby steps, eventually and hopefully all of us returning to our offices and new normals, may we offer the 10 most awful things about quarantine. We’ll miss them like a cotton swab to the brain.
10) “In these uncertain times.”
Somewhere, Mad Men are laughing, having a noon scotch and wondering how the advertising world failed so miserably.
9) More time for sexy time.
Admit it. It started out fun. We were like rabbits in a poppy field. But now she could look like Gal Gadot in a teddy, but all you see is a naked fat chick trying to open a jar of pickles.
Good. Gawd. Now we know why during normal times, every homeschool parent we met looked pasty and had their hair in a ponytail. Dads included. It ain’t fun.
7) That project we were going to get to.
Yeah. Not gonna happen.
6) Exercise selfies
Yo, Karen, we don’t need to know you clipped off a 12:37 pace on a two-mile jog along Buffalo Bayou. That’s not very good, btw. And garage-weight room guy? We get it. You rose and ground. We rose and had a cup of coffee and a bear claw.
Get back to us when you’re in your late-40s.
5) Old-school entertainment.
Board games, puzzles and unmatched decks of cards were crammed into the bottom of your hall closet for a reason. It’s where they can die, peacefully and respectfully.
4) Neighborhood walks.
Now that we see their faces every evening, it’s becoming abundantly clear why these loons post idiotic rants about a bicycle in the driveway on Nextdoor.
You thought the Academy Of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences had a tough time picking Best Picture in 1995, when Forrest Gump, Shawshank Redemption and Pulp Fiction all were nominated? Say hello to your 2020 Homeowners Association’s Yard-Of-The-Month committee. Grooming hedges and laying mulch became an art.
2) Those sweet drive-by caravans for special events.
Like sexy time, they started out awesome. This weekend, though, I saw a 20-car caravan of teachers holding up traffic as they honored kindergarten “graduates.”
Kindergarten. Yes. Kindergarten. That thing you don’t remember.
1) Casual Monday-Friday
I wrote this sitting at my kitchen table, shirtless. I ate peanut butter with a spoon along the way. Oh. And I cut my own hair this morning. I’m not sure how the back looks, but I don’t care. After all, these are uncertain times.