
The Storming Bohemian Punks The Muse: Covid 19 Edition #22 – “Summer, 2020”
Written on 07-14-2020
As advised, I try to follow a “living in the time of COVID-19” schedule. It goes something like this:
5:15 a.m. – Alarm goes off.
5:20 a.m. – Roll over in bed. Switch off alarm.
5:45 a.m. – Alarm goes off. Get up. Use bathroom Go back to bed.
7:30 a.m. – Alarm goes off. Get out of bed. Open curtains and look outside. Close curtains. Put on gym clothes.
8:00 a.m. – Meditate.
8:30 a.m. Watch a rerun of MONK on TV while using step machine.
9:30 a.m. – Suddenly realize I’m standing in my bedroom, fully dressed in street clothes, and don’t remember getting off the step machine. Try to figure out whether I’ve taken a shower. Hair is wet. I must have. Go to make bed. Discover bed is already made. Worry about poltergeists. Try to figure out if I’ve had breakfast. Can’t. Decide it doesn’t matter if I’m eating a second breakfast. Include extra bacon.
10:00 a.m. – Worry about how I could forget whether or not I’ve taken a shower. Start worrying about whether I took medication. Take all medications that I can double without health risk. Skip medications on which I could overdose.
11:00 a.m. Sit down for morning writing schedule. Gonna be a good, focused work day.
11:30 a.m. Finish reading e-mails and surfing through Facebook Realize its lunch time.
2:00 p.m. Try to figure out why I can’t remember what I had for lunch.
2:30 p.m. Have a baked potato as afternoon snack. Why the hell not?
3:00 p.m. Stare at unfinished canvas. Paint a section of canvas. Stare at it some more.
3:15 p.m. Congratulate myself on my creative accomplishment for the day.
4:00 p.m. Remember I’m supposed to turn in a column for Litseen today: “The Storming Bohemian Punks The Muse”
4:46 p.m. Finish writing column.
5:00 p.m. Congratulate myself on keeping a schedule successfully. Promise to do even better tomorrow.
6:00 p.m. Eat dinner. Binge on TV shows.
9:15 p.m. Go to sleep. Have nightmares.
Repeat the next day and the next and the next and the next . . . . . .
Summertime, 2020 . . . . . . . . . . . .
And the living is not so easy