I, for one, am VERY tired of Covid.

Of course, I don’t have it. I am simply suffering from its blowback. Sierra County has experienced ONE death & two lockdowns so far.

I have lost good earrings from wearing masks. I have been accused of standing within 6 feet of others! I have lifted my mask to cough & been castigated by other Wal-Mart shoppers. I have hit the wall with Wal-Mart being the only other shopping place in a town with two open facilities.

Olive Garden is closing, I hear. Where else will I find salt-laden breadsticks? Bottomless soup & salad combos? Regal Theatres are disappearing – oh, wait, I don’t do movies much anymore (last one I went to was “Yesterday”.) And I live in a town where delaying “Mulan” is a sign of the downfall of America.

Our two coffeehouses have closed. There is not a scone to be had in Sierra County! How can I go on?

Already on our economic knees, we kowtow completely to our third lockdown sponsored by our Democratic Governor (who unveiled her jewelry line in Santa Fe recently, with a public “Grand Opening”) Does anyone reading this know what a “kowtow” is? Look it up!

I figure I’ve got a 50-50 chance on survival if the air around the election ever clears, that is. Should the man I call “Sniffy” win, Kamala will stick a shiv in his ribs ten minutes after he reads the Oath of Office off the teleprompter, remove her mask & pick up a bullwhip. “YAH!” she will scream, “Get the Trumpers!” In self-defense, perhaps I can throw a container of home-made sauce at her, since all I’ve done is read books & cook for eight months. Cooking has become what religion once was for me.

I don’t mind ending it all, just let it be painless. Happy thoughts? But I know me, I’ll more likely be clutching the crockpot & a bag of carrots to hide among the prickly pear so I can feed the Resistance.

Of course everyone has a gun here but me. My girlfriends discuss buys on ammo instead of shoes these days.

Luckily (and on the 238th day with nothing else to do) I voted the second day the polls opened. Now I see the parking lot jammed whenever I go by city hall. Since the weather is doing a reprise on summer minus ten degrees on our typical 101 average of a day, and with the a/c turned off on 9/30 due to city budget restrictions, I know they are all feeling the heat in there.

The nice gentleman who ordered me 6′ off as we perused the book aisle at a thrift in Las Cruces probably cannot be blamed. He had just been harrangued by a joyous Yahoo about how Trump was “felled by the wrath of God.” Since Trump was dancing to “YMCA” at a recent rally, it sounds like the Big Heavenly Guy doesn’t hold a grudge long.

My Twitter account needs a black border to contain all the bad news. I get likes for such mild remarks as “I’m so old I remember when the ‘Streisand Effect’ was called ‘Banned in Boston’. I use Twitter to improve my Snark Factor only.

I must look on the positive/hilarious side: I bought a 12-pak of toilet paper a week before the CV thing started & have only recently run out. (It’s just me in the house, here, folks.) I managed to run up a $2,000 bill with the medical community upon tripping over a Handicapped parking stop barrier. I have spent hours on hold with Social Security listening to the same four chords repeating – meant to soothe, I’m sure. I laughed at the reminder to service my car on which I’ve accrued about 100 miles in all this time. My sleeping patterns are totally out of sync with real life because life is not real anymore. I have enough “Don’t vote for him/her mailings because….” to put up a nice fire when I can no longer afford the electricity from paying medical bills.

I have frozen containers of sauce, chili, soup & the bag of Brussels sprouts I carefully hid in the back of the freezer. (I removed the icy packs for picnic lunches to make room.)

I have solved all the riddles of the Sphinx on my own & I’m really bad at puzzles. I have achieved enlightenment in my soul if not my midriff.

So, what’s next?