I'll shame her. Keep your bodily fluids away from other people's bodily fluids as much as possible while we are in a pandemic! Jesus.

I literally just want to sit at a bar with a friend, and I haven't been able to do that for almost a year, and people are out there hooking up? Come ON.

Yeah, I support if people want to chat online and eventually meet up distanced a few times and then decide to date and pod. But not “we matched on tinder, met for lunch, spent the afternoon having sex, but I probably won’t see her again” (though I’m definitely impressed as hell, I can’t manage that kind of pulling when we aren’t in a pandemic much less now!)

Thankfully having a crush on someone throughout the pandemic has proved quite helpful in muting any urge to hook up with randoms, even if it also means I'm mostly not getting any.

One of my friend's husband's has COVID. She is negative thus far, and is isolating in a different room in their home, but can't retest until Friday. They went to his sister's for Christmas. His family is in the 'bad flu" camp. SIL's husband was exposed. Podding only works if everyone cooperates.

Yeah, I support if people want to chat online and eventually meet up distanced a few times and then decide to date and pod. But not “we matched on tinder, met for lunch, spent the afternoon having sex, but I probably won’t see her again” (though I’m definitely impressed as hell, I can’t manage that kind of pulling when we aren’t in a pandemic much less now!)

Agreed on all fronts!

Yeah maybe invest in some toys and not risk death for a rando fuck. Ya know, says the celibate.

I'm trying to write a college recommendation letter for my niece, and I realize I have no idea what I'm doing.

Just learned from Jeopardy: Lincoln's first vice president was named Hannibal Hamlin. No idea if he was also a private detective or a mercenary, but it sounds like he should have been.

I need an alibi, because I have to launch the kitty and my husband into the SUN. Tim is still working second shift, and he stays up for a couple-few hours after he gets home. The closer that gets to 5 a.m. or so, the more likely it is that the kitty is going to want breakfast. In theory, the presence of an awake human should mean that the kitty will get breakfast. But if the kitty does not get breakfast, he sits outside the bedroom door and yodels at the top of his lungs over and over, because a tragedy of great proportions is occurring and the Other Human needs to know.

This yodeling tale of woe, therefore, could be prevented by FEEDING THE FUCKING CAT. I mean, okay, say you're online; no criticism there. But once you hear the cat start yodeling at the door where your prone-to-crankiness wife is sleeping, FEED THE FUCKING CAT.

So yeah, he didn't feed the fucking cat despite the full-on multi-verse yodeling at 5:30 this morning. I wake up, stagger out, am met by the cat in the hall (who is looking at me like "Oh thank Bast, SOMEONE is going to pull me back from the brink of starvation!"), tell the cat "I am going to launch you into the SUN, you motherfucker," and Tim appears in the doorway to the hall and says "Oh, I was trying to email the lawyer** -- should I feed the cat?"

I'm pretty sure the look on my face should have incinerated him where he stood. Do you want to keep on living? FEED THE FUCKING CAT.

**And here's a related thing: when he gets home from work, it's like 6 p.m. for him -- he's wide fucking awake and his brain is zipping along at normal speed. When the cat wakes me up out of a dead sleep yodeling for food, only about 2 of my brain cells are working, and they aren't working together. So Wide-Awake Tim tries to have an actual important conversation with me, every. single. fucking. time. I happen to get up to use the bathroom and he's still awake after work.

So he says "I was trying to email the lawyer," and my reaction is [blank look] [blank look] [head tilt] "...lawyer? Is there...a lawyer?" I'm pretty sure he explained it to me, but fuck if I can remember. I don't *think* he's being sued (or we aren't being sued), but I honestly don't know. I've told him before to not even try to have a substantial conversation with me when I've staggered out of bed at 5 to pee, and he forgets every. goddamn. fucking. time.

And once I went back to bed, I never really quite fell back asleep, so right now my brain feels like it's full of dirty socks. As soon as Tim wakes up, we are going to have words. I desperately hope he tells me that he's not awake enough for a serious conversation. Please, PLEASE say that just once.

Anyway, who's got my alibi?