Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

Bruce was telling me that at this point in the quarantine, it might be easier to move than to clean up their apartment. He says he lost the dog. It must be under a pile somewhere. But mostly he despairs about his hair. I told him Tom came out of the bathroom the other day very pleased with himself. He'd trimmed all the hair on his head that he could see. So basically, business in the front, party in the back. (I was going to stick a picture of someone with a mullet right here, but the search started to provoke too much anxiety and 80s flashbacks. It felt like a trigger risk, so no photo.) As for myself, I trained for this moment. I'm always about six weeks behind the moment that I really should have gone to the hairdresser. Tom did a better job than this guy's wife, for sure: I'm reluctant to call what my wife did to me a haircut. But here it is. Well done, wife. Another string to our bow. Bored Panda

I'm learning a lot about what goes on around the house. Being here 24/7 certainly illuminates the type and extent of ongoing domestic activity. For example, a dumbass robin has been body slamming itself into a window for two weeks. Over and over again. I feel like a horrible person to cause this wildlife misadventure. But this bird is a bloody idiot. A Dumbass Robin First we taped things to the window, which supposedly helps birds see the glass and avoid it. This robin, however, not so much. The score currently stands at:  Glass-40,000 Robin-0 I'm recording my podcast and you can hear the damn thumping in the background. It sounds like we're being burgled. But in like, slow motion time-lapse. I mention the robin at the happy hour last night with Kully and Chad and Michael and Sharon. Kully says he can beat me by 10x. He says that some cute little birds built a nest under the eaves of his house right by the window where he works all day. These birds had

Just got off the video chat. Easter Breakfast with the fambo. To sum up the event, I think quarantine makes the weird get weirder. I asked my niece and nephew what the Easter Bunny brought: They got cold hard cash. Four eggs each containing a crumpled up Andrew Jackson. The Easter Bunny may have lacked inspiration this year. Or, as was suggested, he's laid up with the 'rona. After all, he's old as dirt and doing a shit job social distancing. Leaving a trail of Covids across the nation. The Easter Bunny brings cold hard cash. My niece started talking about the Powerpoint presentation she put together entitled "Things I want for my Birthday." Topping the list is a duck. Apparently you can purchase potty-trained ducks. Grandma came out fully against the idea. She grew up with a groundhog living under the couch. Not sure if that means she's a voice of experience when it comes to wild animals in your house, or if it means she has zero standing to weigh in

Michelle and I discuss virtual birthday parties When attending a virtual birthday party, do you make your own cake? If you don't make your own cake, the birthday girl will blow out candles and eat cake all by herself. Something about that feels off. But if you do make your own cake, I guess you don't put any candles on it. It would be awkward to blow out someone else's birthday candles. I speculate you procure a birthday-style cake, you set it off camera and at the right moment, you reveal your cake and eat it with the girl of the hour. I'm thinking a quasi-cake would also be appropriate. Like ice cream, pie or a handful of mixed almond M&Ms and D-vitamin gummies. D vitamins are essential for the quarantined. Alternately, you could just pour yourself another martini. Or one of those tiki drinks you light on fire. Now that would demonstrate exceptional spirit. I wonder how actual fire would look on Zoom. You'd have to watch not to incinerate your keyb

I was texting with Bruce the other day and he said he kind of doesn't really feel like going out anymore. This new normal has begun to spin itself into a glorious web of pure inertia. Who knew banging around the house 24/7 could hold such appeal? I'll tell you who knew: Miss Havisham, from Great Expectations. She didn't leave the house for years and turned out just fine. Miss Havisham lounging around at home. Ok, she did not turn out fine. She caught on fire and burned to death. Nonetheless, her story could be inspirational at some level. Miss Havisham must have had hundreds of amazing virtual family luncheons in her time indoors. Unlike other people. Maybe it was Miss Havisham's decrepit wedding dress that gave her strength in the face of solitary confinement. I shall commence some online shopping for a non-new wedding dress. Oh wait, I have my mother's decrepit prom gown from 1955 in the basement. That will probably do. I knew it would be useful one