As I was typing my “Pandemic Complaints” subtitle I realized that I spend most of the time drafting this newsletter trying not to complain. (I am not saying it works, I am just saying I try.) I’m very conscious of the fact that I have nothing much to complain about. I mean, yes, everyone has something to complain about. But perspective is a thing.
THAT SAID. My complaint today is that I got sassed at the Dunkin Donuts drive-through on Monday when I misspoke and ordered a “large black coffee with cream.” The woman on the headset barked back “Okay well if it has cream it’s NOT a black coffee.” Okay but like did you know what I meant because I bet that you did! This is a microcosm of what is wrong in this country: the need to be right outweighs everything else.
I wanted to bark back but see above about needing to be right. I sat there for a second and then said “…okay…?” and finished ordering. I am not sure what warranted this woman’s zeal so early in the morning but one has to assume there are other factors, right? Everyone you meet is fighting a battle blah blah blah.
Tuesday morning I made a game-time decision to take both dogs to school. I knew I would regret this on Wednesday but it was too tempting. We have easily another entire year until the puppy becomes the sort of animal that wants to sleep all day, and she has recently developed a new and annoying nighttime habit that is making me want to commit myself to some sort of clinic: she wakes up 2-3 times a night and whines softly but insistently until you go to her crate, open it, and cover her with her blanket.
She goes back to sleep immediately but WHAT THE FUCK, DOG. We have tried putting more than one blanket in with her, and leaving a hallway light on so she can – I don’t know, see that we are still in the room with her or whatever is plaguing her Circus Peanut brain – but nothing seems to do the trick.
In my heart of hearts I know what she wants, which is to sleep in the bed with us. I may be a pushover in literally thousands of ways but I draw a hard and unbreakable line on Dogs In The Bed. Bark up another tree, baby dog!
Here’s a trend I’ve noticed in Pandemic Times: Buying stuff for my hair. In Before Times my husband and I had what we called Hair Party every five or six weeks: we’d go to our salon and get haircuts from our favorite stylist, and while one of us gets a haircut the other one gets to zone out with their phone or sit at Starbucks or whatever. We haven’t been to our salon since early March, or maybe even late February. I no longer remember. I mourn Hair Party often.
Anyway, now my hair is long – which I like! – but ratty, which I don’t care for as much. And because of this, my brain has repurposed my Hair Party budget into a sort of omnibus fund for hair gimmickry. I bought the Pony-O and the Bun Barz (I like the Pony-O but not the Bun Barz), and the Carlin by Mihoko (I love this weird thing), and some scrunchies from an Etsy Christian mom, and most recently the Revlon One-Step, which certain corners of the internet won’t STFU about (I don’t really wanna talk about the number of things featured on that podcast that I now own, thanks). I like the One-Step a lot but the fact remains that I still really need a haircut and still really don’t feel like going to get one.
I have started going back to my nail salon, which is one lady in a surgically clean office. It’s very peaceful and quiet and I trust her. It’s all good. The first time I went back after months away I felt like I might cry a little from the normalcy of it all.
I didn’t cry though! But if you see someone crying at your nail salon just try to remember that they might have been screeched at by the Dunkin Donuts lady recently.