“Remoted” – Workday 36/Day 45 (Thursday)

Forty-Five days without leaving the house, and it’s not horrible. Even though my commute from home to the office-office is only two miles, it can take anywhere from one song on the radio to 30 minutes. I don’t miss the uncertainty of the commute time, nor the “how many laps will I have to do in the garage to find an open parking spot?” game.  So, the home-office commute is a win.

Party of one, your table is ready.

Dining out has been rare for most of the past ten years (for many reasons), so that required no transition at all. Cooking for one lets me eat whatever weird stuff I want when I feel like it. A slice of bread with butter for supper, followed by potato chips? That was Wednesday’s supper menu. Thursday’s supper was a turnip and carrot casserole that would be merely a side dish at my Mom’s house, and probably only at Thanksgiving, but I haven’t lived there for a few years now and I get to make the rules. 

The solitude isn’t as bad as I feared, but there were decades of training that started in childhood with being sent to my room as punishment, which meant my brother and sister were not allowed to “visit” in my room. It was heaven! I would sometimes be a mouthy brat on purpose, just to be sent to my room for uninterrupted time lounging on my bed and reading a book in peace and quiet.

Somewhere along the line as an adult, the fear of missing out was abandoned and there was a shift from needing to be out and around people every night to being quite content hunkered down at home alone. It might have something to do with moving quite a few times, not having many friends to go out with, and an aversion to going out alone, but whatever, it’s proved helpful and familiar now. And unlike when I was a teen grounded for missing curfew (every five minutes late meant a week grounded), now there are cell phones and internet and Zoom meetups.

Once working from home is done for the day, it’s making supper and cleaning up after it, watching TV, and sleeping, just like working at the office, so it’s not so bad. Not really. As long as I don’t actually think about it.

“Remoted” – Workday 35/Day 44 (Wednesday)

It was sunny all the way until 5:00. Then, when work was finished and I could go out and enjoy the sunshine, it was hidden behind heavy cloud cover and it’s dark and gloomy (again). Even though Accuweather doesn’t predict rain, it feels like it might, and really soon, so mowing the lawn, which is suddenly lush in some spots, is out. The meditative, leisurely mow is much preferred over the “oh shit, it’s raining and it’s not even half done” frantic pace of mowing.

In the news of the weird department, Moose, whose sole and singular purpose in life until today has been eating – breakfast, supper, and every possible time in and around those times, is suddenly boycotting his food. Most of it, anyway. He still likes the wet food meatball his morning pill for the Cushing’s disease goes into, and he is a complete treat addict, but the dry food that he usually devours with gusto seems to hold no interest. I even tried hand feeding it to him, but in the end it was leftover plain rice for Moose’s breakfast. 

I dunno. These two "different" flavors
of dog food look the same to me.

Thinking maybe he’s tired of it when he again refused the “Grilled Steak and Vegetables” mix at supper time, the recently arrived 30-pound bag of “Roasted Chicken, Rice and Vegetables” was opened. I’m no dog food connoisseur, but the two mixes look the same to me. So much so, that I even put some of each in a ramekin to compare up close and side by side for scientific observation. I can’t see a difference but I’m not going to taste it to further explore the issue. While Winston had already inhaled his supper and was exploring a small amount of the new food, Moose wasn’t especially interested in the newly opened mix, either. It’s a point of concern right now, but if this lasts much longer, it will be straight out worry and a call to the vet. 

Every day this poor plant
is ravaged a bit more.

Meanwhile, out in the yard, Chuck, the resident groundhog, undeterred by eggshells and coffee grounds, was seen dining in the flower bed, decimating the plant that bears the dark purple flowers (when it’s lucky enough to be allowed to grow). The wire fencing from Amazon to encircle the flower bed can’t get here quickly enough, and hopefully it will work. Chuck looks puffy, but I’ve seen the fluffy furball fit into some small spots when fleeing under the shed. Hopefully the wire will work. If I can hurry up and finish the orange juice, I can use the container to make a little device to encircle and protect what’s left of the plant. Time to drink up. This is when housemates would be handy to hand off some of the juice drinking.

“Remoted” – Workday 34/Day 43 (Tuesday)

Today is a test of patience. I wish I could say “was” but it isn’t over yet.

There was the small stuff – like the Amazon seller that claimed on Monday, April 20 my laptop was shipped that day, but in actuality, did not ship it until April 27. Don’t lie. Cripes. Of course it hasn’t arrived on time (April 23-28), because it wasn’t shipped even close to when they received the payment and claimed it was shipped.

Then there was the grand, day-long test of patience. The teeth grinding until my entire head is gift wrapped in a headache test of patience. The source of the aggravation was the SBA eTran system for the PPP loans. When it’s working, like it did a couple weeks ago, it's possible to input, validate, and get approval on one of these loans in six to ten minutes. When it’s working like it has the past two days, it takes as much as an hour, sometimes more. For one loan. This is what we dealt with yesterday, last night, today, and probably tonight. If I never see these stupid graphics again, that will really be ok.

Frowny Face.

Double Frowny Face.

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But I'll only tell you like 36 times. 
Then I'll dump you like that guy in high school.

“Remoted” – Workday 33/Day 42 (Monday)

Stamina has returned! Woke up ready to assist /process loans /and otherwise kick this day in the butt. 

Unfortunately, the computer systems involved had other, less productive ideas for the day. The day started out rocky, and stayed that way all day thanks to the agency computer system crashing and burning roughly one minute after it opened for the second wave of processing. According to the twitter buzz, it was a nationwide situation, and there was probably not a happy banker in the land. 

In keeping with the crappy theme to the day, upon returning to the desk with a cup of tea, I noticed a rounded brown nugget under the desk. It looked like a brownie bite or a fun-size chocolate treat, except there are no brownie bites or chocolate treats in the house. Nope, it was an anonymous offering of sorts from one of the fur boys, but even when I asked "Who did this?" there was no confession offered. The culprit remains unknown and at large.

When I checked the mail, the whole day turned around. It’s amazing how an envelope in a plastic box attached to the front of the house can deliver a smile. 

It was a mailbox full of joy today.

A business envelope with a colorful return address logo contained the six paint chips ordered online last week from Sherwin Williams. All six shades of blue were initially candidates for the bulkhead, which is currently a lackluster primer gray, and the foundation of the house, which is currently a flat black and looking a bit rough. After seeing them “in person,” there is a clear front runner in the chips called “Dress Blues.” This envelope would have been sufficient to brighten the day, but there was more mail in the box. There was an intriguing padded envelope from a friend in Tennessee containing a handcrafted card featuring one of her original photos accompanying a lovely piece of vintage costume jewelry she thought (quite correctly) I would like. I love it! But there was more. There was also a creamy ivory colored linen business envelope with the Bank’s return address that contained the Kimball Farm Gift Card won in the raffles from our Celebration of Success employee recognition non-event (the actual event was cancelled, because, you know). And just in case all that wasn’t enough, there was a large white envelope with a beautiful art card with a message from the artist and our HR team. With its magical load of cheer, this mailbox drop is as good as Christmas. Possibly even better, due to the element of surprise. 

“Remoted” – Day 41 (Sunday Six)

As much as every little thing annoyed me yesterday, today, every little thing made me tired. As a result, the list of things undone is long. There was no Sunday cooking and meal planning for the week. No laundry was done. The vacuum was untouched. The yard was not visited. The gutters that leak and drip were not investigated for issues in advance of the rain in the forecast. Even more disappointing, there were no elves or fairies or enchanted woodland creatures or even a human handyman that showed up to handle any of the chores like in all those stupid stories I read as a kid. But let’s not dwell on the negatives.

Despite the absence of magical fairy tale helpers, the day wasn’t a total loss and there was a short list of accomplishments. After the usual coffee kickstart, which is a routine that can be done half-asleep on autopilot and probably should not be considered an “accomplishment” per se, a shower was taken and a costume change into daytime lounging sweatpants. There was a daylong binge of “Hart of Dixie” on Netflix. Lunchtime sustenance was delivered in the form of leftover cheese steak sub and sweet potato fries from the Saturday night delivery. 

Quick to prepare,
but not that tasty.

The buzz of activity was so draining that an afternoon nap on the couch with the dogs was needed. Supper took the form of a packaged pasta and cheese product that took all of 12 minutes to prepare, but unfortunately, wasn’t very good. It's billed as a side dish, so maybe the pasta is better with the distraction of a meat and vegetable. But thank goodness for quick to prepare packaged food and leftovers, or starvation might have also been part of the day.

It’s hard to guess what the cause of the fatigue is, but not that that hard to determine what isn’t. It’s certainly not due to extreme physical activity. If I recall my brief period of medical studies at webMD and Google, that leaves the possible causes as stress, depression, lack of physical activity, vitamin deficiency, sunlight deprivation, and/or interrupted sleep due to noisy neighbors at 1:30AM and a dog that needs to go out to pee at 12:30AM, 2:30AM, and 6:00AM. And maybe the absence of human contact is wearing on me. 

“Remoted” – Day 40

Today, for reasons I do not fully understand, got under my skin. It kicked off with working for five hours during which the system started ok but became increasingly sluggish. While I was working, the canine overlords were especially needy – barking, whining, and crowding each other, which usually leads to a fight when one bumps into the other. Luckily, today it didn’t provoke a scuffle.

Is Chuck hiding, or resting before
heading over to the flower bed buffet?

When work was finished, it was yard time for sunshine, fresh air, and harvesting the poop (my other job). That’s when I discovered that Chuck, the groundhog-or-whatever-it-is that lives under my shed, the neighbor’s shed, and all over the neighborhood, has been dining on the perennials and there will likely be no pretty purple flowers that managed to escape the buffet and bloom last year. It’s time to spread the nice jaggedy crushed eggshells and the stinky coffee grounds in the flower bed to deter whatever is repelled by foot lacerations and odors.

There was a text notification from FedEx about a delivery that had arrived an hour before I saw the notice – and which the canine heralds failed to announce. I checked the fully enclosed porch with two access doors where, for most of the past three years and up until earlier this week, most deliveries have been left. No box. Checked outside the porch door that opens to the front steps. There have been a few times when boxes were set on the top step against the door so when opened from the inside, the box topples down the concrete stairs. (Passive aggressive delivery person games?) No box there. Checked the porch side door to the deck and saw the produce box basking in the sunshine. What is the logic of leaving boxes in an open area, subject to the weather and visible from the street, immediately outside an enclosed and sheltered porch? And even though gate access codes; front, back, or side doors; garage; and a few other options are available as choices under lists of “special delivery instructions,” never do I see the supremely logical “in the enclosed porch sheltered from weather and view of porch pirates” as an option.

As I took the box inside, Winston decided to run outside. There was one of the usual street/porch social gatherings underway across the street with maybe eight visitor vehicles parked all over the place, people on the porch, and a guy standing in the street leaning on a car and talking to the people inside the car. This house has a driveway that is three cars wide and a big yard with a privacy fence, pool, and a tiki bar, and yet, they prefer to cram onto the porch, front stairs, and sidewalk.

Anyway. Winston took off through the front yard and kept going, apparently to crash the party across the street and visit with the guy talking to the people in the car. Moose followed behind, but to his credit, when I called them both, Moose turned and came back home. Winston cozied up to the guy in the street who started patting him. And I, as a reflex, had already run into the street to get the little brats, putting me close to and probably within the six foot range of some total stranger who was hanging out at what is likely infection central for the entire city based on daily traffic and visitor volume alone.

So, today was the 40^th day of not leaving the house and interacting with society at close range, except I kind of sort of maybe accidentally did, which felt like a colossal failure and the icing on the annoyance cake. 

Then I opened the produce box that got us into crossing invisible lines and discovered a bit of disappointment. In the mix of stuff including gigantic pears, apples, a mango, and potatoes, were three puny carrots, the largest of which is black and rotted at the end, and two different kinds of lettuce. Seriously? The thing that wilts and goes crappy the quickest is what there is the most of? No tomatoes or cucumbers or peppers or anything else logical for a salad, but a whole lot of frigging lettuce. Maybe if I toss it into the yard, Chuck will take a break from eating my plants. 

Delivery and wine for the win.

Ordinarily, most of this stuff would be too trivial to even notice, but for some reason, today I am especially thin-skinned. The cumulative petty annoyances of the day amassed enough volume that I couldn’t even drag myself to make supper, in spite of the overflowing pantry and crammed-full lettuce bin. Instead, it was “support a local pizza joint” night with a “no contact” delivery order of a steak and cheese grinder, sweet potato fries, chips, and baklava. No, all that food was not necessary. I really wanted the baklava, the rest of the order was built around justifying its delivery. The chips were added to hit the $20 level so I could use the $3 off coupon sent by email. Having supper delivered and a glass of wine was exactly what was needed.  

“Remoted” – Workday Thirty-One (Friday)

Dinner experiment.

Today was another one of those days that are the new routine. Work was super busy (again), the dogs were slightly barky (mostly during work calls), lunch was ramen (shocker). Dinner was an experiment concocted with a vegan meat substitute from a can that marinated all day in Korean hot pepper paste, soy sauce, and sesame oil served over rice. It was not horrible.

Being “thank goodness it’s Friday,” the evening also included a glass of wine (ok, maybe it was two) to help with the wind down. There was also a feeding frenzy that included coconut macaroons. And potato chips. And Cheetos. And six or seven brownies (that's all that remained). 

Looks like we’re all caught up on today.Now we can roll back the tape a bit to last night.

Faces of canine confusion.

Thursday after supper, I logged back into work for a few hours to get a jump on data entry for the big special project. This confused the dogs greatly. We were in the wrong room doing the wrong thing for the time of day.

Instead of sitting on the couch together in front of the TV, we were back at the same desk where the entire day had already been spent. Moose and Winston ran around in circles. They paced. They tossed their little pillows around and traded beds back and forth. They whined to go out. They are creatures of habit and I was really messing with the routine.

When it was the regular time that we usually go upstairs to bed, they barked and danced around and spun around in circles and escalated their efforts to get my attention. This lasted for an hour before I was finally ready. A big part of the uproar was surely because of the nightly routine involving three cookies before bed. This practice started years ago when Moosie used to wake up in the morning (and sometimes during the night) with a sour stomach. Cookies before bed took the acid edge off and spared all of us the barfing. And now it’s a routine that must be executed nightly to avoid unpleasant consequences.

When it was finally time to go upstairs, the delight was palpable. They nearly knocked me over while racing past me to get up the stairs. Then it was the nightly “sit, paw, stay, come, paw” routine that earns the cookies along the way. And finally, it was time for bed.

“Remoted” – Workday Thirty (Thursday)

Another day, another new system to learn for the special project. WebEx training. On the phone hands-on training with the entry screens for said new system. Oy. Cranium feeling cracked. After a supper break it’s back into the trenches to flex the new skills for a couple hours.

In the topsy-turvy world of deliveries, the Amazon Pantry order that was supposed to deliver May 4^th arrived today. Holy crap there is no place to put this stuff. So much for the strategic Whole Foods order to fill in the gaps for the deliveries that were not due for weeks out. Everything is in the house now. It’s crammed in the house. There is now legitimate danger of injury from falling canned goods and pasta products when opening cabinets. Where the home place is now also a workplace, there may actually be some OSHA violations at play here.

While the cabinets are chock full, the refrigerator is dramatically less full, due to the absent produce delivery, which is showing as “Charged” on my produce account, but not logged as packed /shipped /out for delivery or any other exciting words that convey the concept and or even a tiny shred of comfort that the regularly scheduled produce order will be arriving soon, or even at all.

The same MIA situation holds for the laptop ordered Sunday, that was followed by a message from the seller that it had shipped on Monday. The UPS tracking, however, tells a different tale. The UPS tracking tale is a very short story. It shows that a label was created Monday. As of today, it provides an expected delivery date of yesterday. And that’s the end of the story. No pickup notification. No transit tracking. It doesn’t yet seem to exist in the world of delivery.

According to this ... well, what?

That puts the delivery count for the week at two deliveries arriving 10 and 14 days early, one arriving late (the wine due last Friday arrived on Sunday) and two deliveries seemingly not even out of the warehouse gate. 

This aspect of life maintenance is the equivalent of a poorly paying part-time job. One that gives me a headache. It will be great to return to the normal flow of things of just in time inventory management where I get low on/run out of things, then go to the store and buy them. As the cabinet empties, items are replaced. There is order, logic, and control. And I’m the one in control.

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Nine – Wednesday

Today was cold out! It started in the 30s and got all the way up into the 40s. Plus it was windy. Every time Moose and Winston went out was a frosty adventure. The dogs were decked out in sweaters and I had on three layers including a skiing base layer and a cashmere sweater and was still cold. Sure, I could have controlled my environment and kicked up the thermostat a bit and/or changed the programming from the usual “drop to 60 degrees from 8am to 5pm,” but that requires pulling out the manual every single time due to my failure to study an engineering program. Besides, I’m trying to retain as much of the “at work” office feel as possible and a key component of that is freezing all day, every day, all year. The wardrobe layering strategy for winter is three to four layers, and for summer it’s two to three. Thank goodness for jackets and cardigans. And shawls and lap blankets, which, unfortunately, are back at the office in the drawer with 12 pairs of my shoes (don’t ask).

It was clearly the perfect day for a hot lunch, so the remainder of some weird soup from the other day was the star of the menu. The soup is designated as weird because I used purple cabbage, which turned the broth an odd, sort of unappetizing color, in addition to also turning the potatoes purple. Today’s serving was tweaked and color corrected with the usual enhancement to whatever soup is in play. Some sauteed fresh onions and carrots, plus frozen mixed vegetables, and some water helped a lot. If I ran out of onions, it’s possible my entire kitchen empire would collapse. Onions go into practically everything. Half the time, I’m sauteing onions and haven’t decided what the actual dinner is. Luckily, my produce box seems to always contain onions. Or maybe it’s because my produce box always contains onions. Hmmmmm.

Plotting my murder? Canine mind control?

As the work day was winding down, one of the canine overlords engaged in an activity that sent me into flashbacks of some bullying received in junior high. Moose stood like a statue near his bed and stared at me for a solid 15 minutes. It could have been longer, it just happened that I was aware of it for 15 minutes. It reminded me of seventh grade when a ninth grader spent most of the school year glaring at me in the hallway and across any open spaces, looking like she was plotting my murder. I avoided an entire block of Milk Street to not have to walk past her house. 

Grilled PB&J!

After shaking off the PTSD from the staring episode, the flashback trend continued with the resurrection of an old favorite for supper – grilled PB&J. My sister introduced me to this delicacy when I was in college, she was in high school, and we both still lived at home. I thought she was completely deranged when she told me about it, and then she made me one. Sold! It’s delicious, and there is the added potential danger of burning your face off with the hot peanut butter and scalding jelly. Adventure can take many forms. So can comfort food. 

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Eight (Tuesday)

Some days and weeks go by quickly. Today was not one of those days and this does not feel like one of those weeks.

There was some down time between the major and important tasks today, so attention was turned to deleting old emails and files; chasing down loose ends on things not quite finished a few weeks ago before the special project; and mandatory online training/policy modules. The training is due to be completed by June 30, but hey, it’s all done now!

Back in the olden days before the pandemic, I signed up for our in-bank public speaking class, which would have been underway for a couple weeks now, but obviously that was cancelled, taking with it one of my performance goals for the quarter. Last fall, I came close to registering for the Certified Financial Marketing Professional exam in May (another goal), but there were a couple reasons that got in the way including a glitch when trying to buy the textbook and register for the exam on the website. It was annoying at the time, but now it feels like it was a stroke of good luck. It would have stunk to have been studying for an exam that wouldn’t happen, and then trying to get back into the exam prep groove months or a year later. Maybe next time.

The day started out sunny and nice, but then it got gray and the rain rolled in. It seemed to act like a sedative for the dogs and they spent a lot of time sleeping. It was a welcome break from their usual shenanigans and provided peace and quiet for the required reading of those positively riveting policies.  

Tonight’s kitchen experiment was Spaghetti Pie. For mysterious and unknown reasons, this morning a conversation about Spaghetti Pie that took place with a colleague from six jobs and roughly a million years ago popped into my head. His name was Tom and he visited his Mom for dinner regularly. He had told me she wasn’t a very good cook, but the one dish she made that he liked was Spaghetti Pie.

Deep dish Spaghetti Pie.

Tonight, I looked up a recipe for it. Basically it’s spaghetti, ground sausage, and sauce mixed with an egg to bind it, put in a dish, topped with cheese and baked. Mine had a bit too much sauce, indicating that maybe I should have read beyond the ingredients and paid some actual attention to the full recipe, but it was pretty good. 

Next time (if there is one), it will be less sauce and more cheese – like maybe some extra cheese layered in the middle because the only thing better than cheese is more cheese. And to Tom from that job in Worcester many moons ago, my apologies for having forgotten your last name and thanks for the random memory and the idea for dinner.

Spaghetti Pie is easy enough to possibly make the cut for my “COVID-19 Cookbook – Recipes for Never Leaving the House.” This imaginary masterpiece will really just be a lot of mediocre unstaged cell phone photos of random food made during this work from home/never leaving the house period, and one page of instructions along the lines of  “Look in your cabinets and fridge. Put some stuff in a pot/baking dish and cook it/bake it.” I don’t measure and half my stuff is made with ingredients prepared in bulk and tossed together later, so it will really be a brag book about “Hey, look what I did” (half the premise of Facebook) and the concept of "be loose, be free, it’s your danged kitchen." Whaddaya know, the book outline is basically done.

With the rain and the wind and the gloom, it’s the perfect night for hot cocoa and brownies while curled up on the couch with two fur babies (one of whom will have me up every ten minutes to open the door for him) and binge watching “Hart of Dixie” on Netflix. How did I not know know about this show before? Whatever. I know about it now, and it doesn't have subtitles, making it a most unusual selection that could really confuse the Netflix algorithm that suggests shows. After years of watching lots of subtitled Korean dramas, it almost feels like a miracle landing on a show that is in English.  But sometimes, I just don't feel like reading a show.

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Seven (Monday)

The calendar indicates it’s Monday, and after 35 days of not leaving the house, thank goodness for the calendar or I would not know what day it is. The date and time stamps of life at the office are gone for now – the regular Marketing bi-weekly meetings, the full Sales and Marketing team monthly meeting, the 2:30-ish daily filling of the downtown streets when the high school lets out for the day. The only predictable time stamp at the home office so far has been the noisy gathering across the street on Monday afternoons that erupts into dirt bike races. Mostly, the days kind of blur and flow into each other, not unlike the colors in a watercolor painting.

Today, however, was a bit remarkable (as in kind of wacky). There were some clearly defined lines in the masterpiece du jour when the pantry went from dwindling to suddenly overflowing in a couple hours. The pantry before and after would not be even remotely interesting in the "normal days" of needing things, going out and getting things and moving on. But these are different times, and entertainment options are a bit limited.

On April 8, an order placed with Amazon Pantry posted with a going-to-feel-like-forever delivery date of April 29. In a panic over dwindling reserves that might not last another week, coupled with the miraculous opening of a delivery window, an order was placed with Whole Foods on April 19 with delivery on the 20^th. Imagine the surprise when shortly before the appointed hour of the Whole Foods delivery, a text came in from Amazon Pantry to inform that the order scheduled for the 29^th would be delivering early. As in today.

Clearing the pantry with
rice and beans.

In a rapid switch from the recent self-imposed rationing program, dinner became a challenge to clear some pantry space. It was rice and black beans for the win, which used the remaining rice to clear room for the new bag arriving from Whole Foods. The canned black beans and jarred salsa made room for the premature arrival of those items from Amazon Pantry. The volume of cooked rice was a wee bit excessive for the dinner entree, so a container of it went into the freezer. The volume of prepared rice, beans, and salsa was also excessive, so a portion went to the freezer after a smaller container went into the fridge for lunch on Tuesday. 

It was a brilliant execution of the usual Sunday afternoon cooking strategy, but happening on Monday evening, it is not going to help the “What day is this?” situation at all. Especially where,to confuse things even more, the usual Monday trash and recycle pickup this week is happening Tuesday. 

“Remoted” – Sunday Five

Sunday Five, Day 34 of “Stay at Home” was mentally exhausting with random spots of progress. 

Much waking time was spent agonizing over shopping online for a new laptop to replace the 13-month old laptop with the screen crack that is getting worse. It’s not growing larger and is still limited to the lower right corner, but the pieces in the web of the fracture are shifting and the new angled facets catch the light and excessive amounts of my attention. Theoretically, the screen can be replaced, but I’m not sure how or where this can be done during the COVID-19 shutdowns, so it was time to suck it up and make a move where I could.

Blah, blah, tech words, new laptop is red!

A friend who knows a lot more about PCs than I do provided solid advice and a specific recommendation, and even so, it was three nights and a chunk of time on Sunday reading and comparing specs and getting myself torqued up into a headache before finally pushing the button and committing the credit card to a new laptop. Hours after the purchase, all I can remember is that it’s red and could arrive as soon as Thursday or as late as the following Tuesday.

After laptop shopping, there was a return to my newest hobby of obsessive online grocery shopping, and for the first time in two weeks, there was a Whole Foods delivery window available. Unfortunately, sold out items had disappeared from my cart and it no longer met the minimum order size, so there was some panicked grocery shopping. Now there will be butter, eggs, milk, mayonnaise, frozen mixed vegetables, rice, and a bunch of other stuff arriving tomorrow, and I can ease up a bit on the strict rationing protocol.

After watching half an episode of “Tiny House Nation” it’s clear that I need some tiny house designers to create some storage magic in my house. Holy crap, the Nashville house on the show had a mirror and ballet bar that folded out of a closet, and a desk that lifted up and out of a bench seat. In the next episode, they did a bar that lifted up out of a cabinet. A California house had a stepstool/ kitchen island /table that lived under a counter when not in use. This stuff is fascinating!

This finally has a home
wall in the kitchen.

Tiny house ideas could be the magic to make my guest room finally happen with built in storage and some sort of a fold down wall bed. Between watching “Tiny House Nation” and time spent browsing Wayfair, Overstock, and Amazon, there are so many cool ideas hitting the list for my house. I was even inspired to hang a piece of art that had been living in a drawer. This house has been the longest decorating project I’ve ever lived in, partly because I have a lot of art and very few suitable walls. But one big benefit to all the time spent in the house over the past month is progress in both ideas and action. 

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Six (Saturday)

Second snowy morning of the week. I couldn’t find any info in my thorough, 45-second internet search for local snowfall totals this winter, so this could be way off the mark, but it feels like our two mid-April snowfalls were more than what we got in all of January. It also seems that moving the shovel, skis and snowshoes from the back shed to the enclosed front porch in the fall in preparation for winter snow activities acted as a snow preventative, and their recent return to the shed seems to have inspired the snow. The snowfall didn’t last long, and neither did the accumulation.

Work was moderately busy and the canine overlords were models of calmness and civility for most of it and left me alone. Moose napped in the bed near the desk most of the day, snoring softly. Meanwhile, Winston, aka King Hopalong, was perched on his couch throne, lording over the living room in a regal and quiet manner. Around the time I was wrapping up work for the day, Moose became restless and embarked on his  daily dinnertime begging spectacle. It’s a Broadway extravaganza that starts with whining that grows to a barking crescendo. There is dancing around me with footwork that would make the Rockettes proud as he tries to herd me to the food closet. The only thing lacking is costumes. 

Like most days, the pre-dinner histrionics began with still more than an hour to doggy dinner time. I’m reluctant to alter the feeding times under the assumption that eventually things will return to the old normal. It will be enough of a shock to the pups when they are again swaddled in their doggy diapers, and I leave the house each morning and don’t return for eight to ten hours at a time. Also having their dinner time changed could lead to a revolution.

The star likes to stare.

After dinner is when Moose presents his post dinner show. This production is heavy on penetrating stares from the lead actor, delivered from various distances. Scripting is limited to overuse of the special bark that sounds exactly like “Out, out,” used by the overlord to signal his desire to be on the other side of the entry door. The audience participation component involves approximately 1,237 trips to open the door, for which he really wants to go out only three or four times, and all the others are because he wants a cookie. It’s exhausting. Apparently for both of us, because the star naps after the performance, but at least then he is quiet. Thank Dog for small miracles.

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Five (Friday)

Today was a day of waiting and wanting. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted a FedEx truck in my driveway as much as today. Almost every day, at different points in the day, a FedEx truck and a UPS truck each back into my driveway to turn around, which triggers an alert from my door security camera to my phone. These trucks are part of a stream of roughly 25 cars each day pulling in to turn around and trigger alerts, and yes, I sometimes get all Clint Eastwood “get off my lawn” aggravated.

Anyway, today I WANTED a FedEx truck in the driveway – specifically, I wanted the FedEx truck with my wine delivery in the driveway. Every one of the too many times that the dogs barked today, I was convinced it was the wine ordered last Friday. The only reason I opened and then finished my one bottle of wine last weekend was because six more were due this week. When it was ordered on Friday the 10^th, the delivery was noted as Tuesday the 14^th, which felt impressively fast. There was also a note on the site’s home page about heavy volume and possible delays which felt both realistic and reasonable, and if history is an indicator, there wouldn’t be a bottle opened before Friday anyway. 

Yay!

On Thursday the 16^th, there was an email from the winery stating the wine had shipped and still, amusingly, showed a delivery date of Tuesday the 14^th. Is Doctor Who in charge of this wine distribution and is it being delivered in the TARDIS? Because that would be the most impressive wine delivery in the galaxy, and I would sign for that program up for life. 

Huh?

The FedEx tracker showed a delivery of Friday, April 17^th “by end of day” which provided something to look forward to. There was also a button for more specific tracking, which revealed very little. It showed that a shipping label was created on Thursday in Cobleskill, NY, and that was about it. The text alert was even more cryptic – it said estimated delivery was not available, adult signature - identification is required, and if I’m not going to be home, to let them know. Huh? 

At 6:00, which was the end of my workday, and had earlier boldly been deemed wine o’clock when there was no wine in the house, I checked the FedEx tracker. It still said Friday, April 17^th “by end of day.” Ummmm, tick, tock, tick, tock. Where does FedEx's “end of day” sit on my clock?

Over the next couple hours, while sitting on the couch with my adult identification nearby,  half watching “Married at First Sight” (Charlotte), wine was occupying a lot of space in my head. Most days, wine is not even a thought. Bottles have sat untouched for months, even a year, but today, there was a yearning for a glass of wine in a way like never before. There was reluctance to open one of the precious few remaining bottles of beer (which have lazed in the fridge since a Christmas Eve party),or fix a mixed drink, so convinced was I that the truck would arrive immediately after doing so, in the same way that the person you’re waiting for finally shows up when you visit the toilet.

Over and over the tracker was checked. Over and over it said, “Friday, by end of day.” Finally, at 8:00 there was a cryptic update on the site that said the “estimated delivery date is pending.” What, what? The passage of time delivered negative progress, but no wine. Finally, at 8:37, there was a text update that “delivery is rescheduled for Saturday the 18^th.” Sigh. I hope the “rain turning to snow with slippery road conditions” forecast for Saturday does not further hinder delivery. Thank you FedEx for turning my wine into ice water tonight. It’s probably just as well – I volunteered to work tomorrow. 

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Four (Thursday)

Talk about a crazy day. Woke up with a raging headache. There was snow on the lawn and the car and still falling steadily from the sky. In a couple of hours the snow was gone, but not the headache. The weather forecast is for more snow on Friday night. The delivery forecast is for wine to arrive Friday. Overall, the forecast is good.

Winnie's hobbling. Again.

Effective today, Winston is a three-legged dog. Again. Over the past seven years, he has alternated injuries to both rear legs. The first time it happened he had laser treatments which may or may not have helped. Surgery was mentioned as an option, but due to the cost and absence of certainty, it was declined. Winnie deftly maneuvered on three legs for weeks or maybe it was even months, until one day he was back with four on the floor. Shortly thereafter, he injured the other rear leg. It’s happened periodically over the years, but he’s been mostly good lately. So good, that he’s been jumping the past couple days, which is probably why he’s a tripod dog again. I'll be carrying him up the stairs and the Winnie 20-pound weight program will resume. Injure. Hobble. Heal. Repeat. Oh, Winston. Old age stinks buddy. 

Sausage and breaded eggplant.

Dinner was fun. The eggplant from last week’s produce box finally met the knife to fulfill its destiny as thin slices coated with a mix of bread crumbs and wheat germ and baked crispy. A little sauce, some mozzarella, and a hot Italian sausage, and dinner was yummy. Cooking is fun when I feel like doing it, and by design, there are leftovers for the times I don’t feel like doing it. With strategic planning and rationing, the five remaining sausages cooked tonight could last for several weeks. It's funny what feels like a victory these days.

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Three – Wednesday

The crack in the bottom corner of the laptop screen is getting worse, probably due to the commute from living room to kitchen and the need to sometimes shift the screen angle. The fear of computer shopping in the immediate future is adding a fine veneer of stress to things. Having just bought  the laptop 13 months ago, the anxiety from that purchase is still a bit fresh, when a fantasy of again playing video games caused me to spend much more than I needed to. What was I thinking? Reality has shown that my laptop is used for Facebook and Scrabble, Word, and now for work. There has been no movie watching, no video games. At least I know there is no need to spend $1,200 on the replacement unit.

Noodle kugel for breakfast!

It wasn't until after dinner I realized it was kind of a weird food day. Breakfast was noodle kugel made the other day (not to be confused with potato kugel or matzo kugel). It’s a sweet one, with apples, pineapple, and raisins and was chosen for breakfast for ease and speed. Lunch was an instant ramen cup, chosen for speed and convenience, and dinner was leftover fettuccini with leftover veggies, again chosen for speed and ease. There seem to be themes emerging with the food today – speed, ease, and noodles. So many noodles.

It’s the gap time between Amazon deliveries arriving and the money having left the account. The way some of the orders charged in bits and pieces, it practically requires a degree in forensic accounting to figure out what charged and if anything else will still be coming out. 

In a couple weeks the pantry will be restocked with a bunch of stuff I barely remember ordering. It's already been days of "Did I order the granola bars/ chili/ tortillas/ canned plant-based pretend hot dogs? Was the mayo in the successful Pantry basket, or is that the Whole Foods cart that never has an open delivery window?" 

The delight of receiving forgotten wanted stuff coupled with the disappointment of not receiving the things that were sold out or were edited out of the cart, will carry all the elements of Christmas as a kid. And just like Christmas, the wait is feeling like forever. 

It will be nice to ease up on rationing granola bars and mayonnaise. Without a lot of storage, I operated in the "JIT - just in time" inventory management theory, and restocked as needed. That was  before I decided to see how long I can stay at the house without leaving -- which was done without benefit of preparation. It's been 30 days so far, and I haven't even left the house to take a walk. There hasn't really been time. And who knew all the time spent in my room grounded and sulking over being stood up by dates in high school would come in so useful in adult life? I may have to be dragged back into society, kicking and crying.

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-Two – Tuesday

Remote Workday 22 / Hermit Day 29. The work part was the busiest I have been since I don’t know when.

Today, I had two people sending me data sheets and I entered 29 accounts. For comparison, my highest count before today was 14. It could have been more, but a few inefficiencies in the system prevented it. There were a few instances of inaccurate data that needed research. One person sending instructions would attach the data spreadsheet with the message. The other would send an email with the name of the account in the subject line, and I’d have to go to the server and look for the sheet. Guess which was faster. My total would have been 30, but the last two I received had issues. One had too many digits in the NAICS industry code and the other I couldn’t find the sheet on the server.

When there are no issues with system lag, math errors, zip code +4, or NAICS code, and just one or two owners on the account, I can enter the info in under 10 minutes. Part of the credit goes to the new mouse and keyboard. Even thought I write with my right hand, I mouse with the left. The new keyboard has the dedicated number pad on the right hand side, so I can type numbers right handed and use the mouse to move to the next cell with the left. It would never be that fast on the laptop keyboard and touchpad.

Moose, the barky one, and Winston, the needy one.

The dogs were extra needy today. Winston seemed bored and restless and made frequent appearances near my chair to tap my leg with his paw until I patted his head. Moose tested his vocal chords and my patience with constant whining. It’s a miracle I got anything done.

After work, during one of Moose’s 1,000 trips outside to pee in two hours, there was a bit of something happening at the end of my driveway that seemed to involve a big red truck, the lady next door, and a small white car crammed with males.

Like I do a million times a week, I was standing at the door watching Moose do his business against the side of the house, which, while not favorite my spot, is definitely better than inside the house. The driver of the car full of clowns which was most likely leaving the never-ending party across the street, stuck his head out of the car window and yelled at me, “Mind your own fu$%ing business.” Umm, excuse me? Gawd, I don't want to hate, but I really hate the people that come and go from the house across the street.

“Remoted” – Workday Twenty-One – Monday

The morning was gray and raining and the forecast was for crazy heavy winds. The kind of winds that come with warnings from the local weather group on Facebook, text alerts from the power company about possible outages resulting from downed limbs and power lines, and an alert from work about what to do in the event of power loss while working remotely. This storm is no joke.

Breakfast today was my childhood favorite – cinnamon toast. When I was a kid, this was a rare and special breakfast treat, but as an adult fully aware of the low degree of difficulty and minimal ingredients, I have no idea what made cinnamon toast the least served breakfast in my childhood home. For speed and ease, it’s the simplest breakfast on the planet. Well, not as simple as unwrapping a granola bar, but it's pretty simple.

Monday in my neighborhood is trash day. Once a week, the little wastebaskets from the bedroom and bathroom are emptied into the larger kitchen wastebasket. This is where it gets exciting. When the flip-top lid of the wastebasket is removed to tie up the bag and remove it, Moose goes from zero to 100 in the blink of an eye. He barks and yelps. He thrashes like a toddler who just had his favorite toy taken away.

When the bag is carried through the dining room to the front door, he runs alongside, still barking. Then, as soon as the door is opened and we go outside, he stops. He is suddenly quiet and no longer interested in me or the bag of trash. Maybe he doesn’t want the neighbors to see that he’s nuts. With only minor variations, this has been the weekly trash bag routine for 3.5 years. And with the trash bag fanfare, the workweek begins.

For unknown reasons, logging into the system this morning was quirky, and it only got worse as the day wore on. During data entry, there were problems with really stupid things like zip + 4 codes and basic math and frozen screens that caused a 15-minute activity to take exponentially longer. Over and over again. It was frustrating. 

Canine naps were often interrupted
 by my random swearing.

After 9.25 mostly aggravating hours and many, many swear words randomly yelled at technology at sufficient volume to startle the dogs from their napping, it was finally over. There was not much patience or mental capacity left to make dinner, so it was a three-minute ramen cup for the win. Then some Cool Ranch Doritos. I feel much better now.

“Remoted” – Sunday Four (Easter!)

The morning had a leisurely start when Moose let us sleep close to 8:00. I mean no sacrilege, but it felt like a modern Easter miracle right here in Pawtucketville. It was much needed extra sleep due to the accidental finishing of the bottle of Merlot during and immediately after the Zoom cyber cocktail party with friends the previous night.

While enjoying coffee and a delightfully dry granola bar, there was a welcomed call from my Mom with Easter greetings, and various text messages from friends and colleagues with Easter wishes. There were no Easter decorations at the BungaLowell. It seems like a waste of effort for one person and the dogs don’t appreciate it. Plus, I gave most of the decorations away before moving back from Tennessee under project “less to pack.”

Early in the afternoon there was a knock on the door. It was two friends wearing masks and gloves and delivering a basket of cheer including fresh eggs from their chickens, bread, hand sanitizer, and toilet paper which was left on the “contact-free” table on the porch. The perfect isolation Easter Basket! Then, we chatted across the recommended safety span, they on the lawn and me on the porch with the window open. My friends really are thoughtful.

Later in the afternoon, the party-hardy neighbors across the street hosted another one of their open house gatherings that featured lots of people, double parked cars, and a couple hours of noisy dirt bike racing through the neighborhood. No helmets on the riders. No license plates on the bikes. No regard for rules or safety of any kind. But that could just be me being annoyed and judgey.

Greens and fettuccine.

Today’s menu lacked any and all of the traditional Easter fare. No ham or lamb, but those are things I generally wouldn’t cook any way. My meat repertoire is comically limited to hot Italian sausage, tube sausage, in-store roasted chicken, sliced Lebanon Sweet Bologna, and various brands of fake meat. There is no special reason, just easy to manage. 

Lunch was a mix of collard and carrot greens sauteed in olive oil with onion, garlic, sweet peppers, and carrot. This was tossed with jarred eggplant and red roasted pepper spread (sold at Big Lots, and so good!), and served over fettuccine. It was nothing like anything at previous years’ Easter dinners with family, but this is nothing like any Easter of the past. It was easy to make and quite yummy. 

Zucchini sushi.

Dinner was inspired by the helpful “Facebook Memories” feature and a recipe posted on my timeline in 2017. There was zucchini in the produce box that arrived the other day, and there was cream cheese, sriracha, carrots, canned tuna, and a vegetable peeler in the kitchen, so it was “zucchini sushi” for the win. The next time, the zucchini needs to be sliced a bit thinner, so it will be less tricky to roll. The combination of whipped cream cheese and sriracha sauce is very tasty.

Today’s indoor entertainment offerings included a movie with the stiffest acting by an entire cast that may have ever graced the screen (“The Killing of a Sacred Deer” with Nicole Kidman and Colin Farrell), a nap on the couch with the dogs, and my new social distancing hobby of online grocery shopping. The stuff that caught my eye today and made its way into the cart is amusing. There was Spam in my cart. Yes, Spam, which has never been much more than a subject for mockery in my usual life, but there were faint childhood memories of sliced fried Spam frolicking around the edges of my mind. It was a temporary situation and was moved to “save for later.” It seems I’m not ready to commit either way yet.