Dear Diary,
When you're not allowed to do anything fun or go out without the whole mask and six-feet-apart thing, there's not that much to talk about. I mean, I have some stuff to tell you, but it's not that exciting. Maybe you can relate. Unless you are one of the great frontline workers, you haven't seen all that much excitement. Am I right?
I was so thrilled to take a trip to Walmart this weekend, that I needed to take a picture.
And, uh-oh, it doesn't look like I'm six feet away from that dude in front of me. Sometimes, those lines the store put down on the pavement don't seem six feet apart. Wow. I can't believe I'm actually writing something this mundane! haha. Things will start to ease back to normal soon. I am optimistic. Until then, mask up and wash up and work from home...which I don't really like. I miss my people. Did I write this in my last Diary entry? Probably. It's like we're living the movie Groundhog Day.
I had a major project I worked on all weekend. It should've taken me two hours, but I procrastinated and got sucked into Flea Bag (jury is still out on how I feel about that show) so it took me two days! This is what my pile of jeans and sweats looked like before. I am embarrassed by this mess.
This is me hating life.
And this is my new carpet I finally got to roll out because my floor was clean.
So, with the closet purging, I have a lot of jeans that don't fit over my butt and thighs anymore. One of those pair is size 27. And they fit like a 25. Those are the jeans I wore when I walked into rehab. I was so skinny and sick. I've kept these jeans just to remind me of where I was. I tried them on just for kicks and couldn't get them up over my thighs. It's crazy to think I was that skinny. Anyway, I've decided to dump those damn jeans. Why on earth do I need them? So, I have decided to give my old jeans and sweatsuits to a women's recovery home. I asked for suggestions on my Instagram and that one hit me. I just hope they are taking donations.
Next project is my dresser, which is jam packed full of t-shirts. I love fun t-shirts. Like this one. I want to buy it, but I should probably pay my phone bill first.
I love this one, too. Again, not a necessary purchase at this time.
So, I've been thinking about our high school seniors a lot these days. I feel great empathy for those students and their families. I wrote a little letter from my heart. And, I included my senior pic (even though no one wants to see those fat bangs..or my real hair color, for that matter.)
Dear Class of 2020,
I feel the need to say something to you all. I don't even have a senior in my house, but my heart hurts for you and your families. It really truly does. I can't imagine the disappointment of not having a prom. It can be really tough to know that graduation won't be the same this year, but it's important to know that your friends and family are all still so proud of you and all you have achieved. It's so impressive how you have all adapted to life on screens. The last half of my senior year was so fun and full of memories. Just remember to cherish the memories you did make in the majority of your senior year! I want you to know that I admire your strength and positivity. You all will go on to become the strongest bunch of young adults we've seen in a long time. You will have a connection to your peers that no other graduating seniors will ever know. This is happening for a reason. It will soon show itself. Cry, scream, be angry, be sad. It's ok. You have the entire world on your side. We yearn to give you what you deserve...if we could. If you can overcome this, you can overcome anything. Class of 2020, we are so proud and we love you!♥️
I know this doesn't fix anything. I just wanted to say something to you and your wonderful kids. Ok, here comes the picture.
I will leave you with a song that I hope lifts your spirits.
See you next week, Diary.