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Isolation Night Owl Bloggin'

Yesterday marked one month on isolation for me and to say my schedule has been thrown off would be an understatement. I've always been a night owl and staying up until around 2:30am on a weeknight was never unusual, but now I'm laying down as the birds start chirping knowing full well Spork will be nudging me to get up & feed him the moment I finally pass out.

Around 10am I open my eyes again and stare at the ceiling for a bit, then chug coffee and get lost in whatever I'm trying to accomplish for the day... Record ZeroBlog30, research show ideas, look for stories... 

By 3pm-ish I've posted some weird blog or song that will reel in around 5 comments telling me I'm old, ugly and unfunny. Some bravely anonymous, deeply unhappy man-child will announce that I'm gross and he would never have sex with me. Another will write something edgy about my pussy and cream their pants a little at the thrill of what they've just done. 

Before isolation that would roll off my back like skeet on a hot summer day, and I tended to focus on all the good, fun interactions (there's still a lot & I'm grateful for every one of them), but I've got a low enough emotional intelligence that now with this free time I catch myself ruminating on the trolls. Maybe I do smell like cheese. Maybe I do look like Larry Bird and Michael 'Squints' Palledorous had a baby. 

* In fact, over the weekend I was feeling anxious and mired in PMS (nice way of saying I was bleeding out of my vagina hole) & a few DMs really got to me and I cried in a bathrobe on my couch. Then I took a selfie to see if I look as cute as Ellie does when she takes a crying selfie but surprise: I don't. The broken nose eclipses the pain behind those beady, little eyes and something about a pandemic going on takes away the sad factor and makes the self-pity behavior kind of pathetic.

Ope! Where was I? Ah - by 3:15pm-ish I snap out of it and move on to the next thing 'cause trolls are free to speak their minds and the toll they take is a small price to pay when I've got my dream job & like who I am and how I treat people. Side note, I also usually eat 2 - 3 Little Debbie products and a large handful of Hershey Kisses around this time all at once. Those two things are not related, I swear. 

By the time I'm ready for lunch it's 5pm and while I eat I look outside and tell myself I need to go for a walk since I don't have a yard or balcony or rooftop. Then somehow that walk never materializes, then it's livestreams and zooms and prepping for the next day's ideas and taking a thousand pictures of whatever hilarious thing Spork is doing (omg he's yawning!) and talking to my family and watchingThe Sopranos and all of a sudden it's midnight and I'm ready for dinner. 

Tonight it was a frozen pizza boat and before I ate it I spent two incredibly sad minutes trying to 'throw it to myself' for a video idea that will likely never see the light of day.

The next few hours are usually lost to scrolling mindlessly through my phone and I start to feel drowsy, but then 2am hits and my whole body perks up like I'm waking up fresh from a perfect night of sleep. I'm ready to fucking go. And for absolutely like, zero reason. (Other than maybe a little depression medication goofin' combined with sugar from the enormous amount of ice cream I always eat around 12:30am.)

And then voila, I wind up where I'm at right at this very moment... 3am, wide awake on my couch with Spork silently judging me from the other end. With everything going on, it's a pretty good place to be any time of day and I figured maybe I'll start making the most of it with some super late nite, rambling, purposeless bloggin'.

And if you're up and bored I'll probably be embarrassing myself on Instagram Live or bugging coworkers in the same sleepless boat. Always room for more on it.