Day 11 of Governor Newsom’s “Blueprint for a Safer Economy”
L. works for Door Dash now…
Monday. 9/7/20 (Labor Day)
8:30-9:30 – I’m up and I read I’m Just Happy to be Here while I drink my Hydroflask.
9:30-10:30 - Downstairs and I take the dog out. She pooped near the front door. Once outside, the dog continues to alert on the same tree. It might be on account of the “bird sanctuary” I have in my backyard. She goes potty, on the red rock in my flower bed instead of the astroturf, which is weird. Once inside, I give her cheese, then block the doggie door so I can water my plants, which she absolutely hates. She sits on the love seat and stares at me out the window, barking, while I’m watering.
I finally finish watering, come inside, and remove the block from the doggie door so she can go outside. Unfortunately, I see that she pooped next to the dining room table in retaliation for being locked inside (sigh).
10:30-11:30 – I straighten the kitchen and make coffee, then enter my home office and check emails from College No. 1. I’m pulled down the e-mail rabbit hole like I knew I would be, but I’m able to respond to everyone.
11:30 – 1:00 - I don’t have class at 2:30 since it’s a holiday and I had all these grandiose plans to record some lectures during this block of time. Instead, I do nothing. I’m completely burned out from last week. I have Minestrone soup and continue reading I’m Just Happy.
L. leaves for work but before she goes, I float the idea of transforming her room into her own studio apartment. She has an adjoining bathroom so this is a conceivable plan and I want to encourage her independence in some way, even if she can’t afford the apartment of her dreams. She says she’ll think about it.
L. is now working for Door Dash and made $91 in 2 hours yesterday. She had an encounter with an “in-cell” (involuntary celibate), when the Door Dash instructions told her that drop-off couldn’t occur unless she walked down a narrow, gated alley outside the house, which would essentially trap L. if some sex offender closed the gate behind her. L. refused and left the food outside the front door, which was, oddly, a fortified, industrial door with a key-pad for a lock. She was walking briskly to her car when the loser in-cell materialized and said, “Are you Door Dash?” Without turning around, L. said, cheerily, “Hi. I left your food at the door” and drove away, narrowly avoiding being kidnapped and chained to a chair in the basement for the rest of her life.
2:30-3:30 – I do a 1-hr HIIT Full Body Circuit app with my new 5-pound weights. I’m exhausted.
3:30-5:00 – Shower. Dress in my Covid-19 uniform and light make-up. I was ravaged by mosquitoes yesterday, at J. and R.’s pool, especially the bottoms of my feet. I pack an overnight bag and leave for B.’s house.
6:00-11:00 – B. makes pasta and we have dinner outside on his patio, while we talk politics and look out over his golf-course backyard. He has white wine and I have champagne, of course.
11:30-12:00 – Bed.