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

I couldn't find Tom all day. He vanished. I knew he was around somewhere because. Quarantine. And also because I was included on a chat. I'm sitting there minding my own business trying to work from home and then there's a string of bing-bing-bings. Texts hitting me from all directions. Tom and my mom can text all day about the New York Times Spelling Bee game. Tom & Mom play Spelling Bee In the New York Times App About lunch time I spy Tom out on the deck. He's sitting there as quiet and still as a National Geographic wildlife photographer. A National Geographic Wildlife photographer playing Spelling Bee. He had his big camera and his phone in silent mode. Obviously. He's professional like that. Tom likes to keep an eye on the groundhog as much as the groundhog likes to keep an eye on Tom. The fat groundhog who likes to dig up the lawn. The fambo goes way back with groundhogs. Here's a pic of my mother holding a groundhog. It'

The thing with a quarantine is a real question mark around pants. Bruce weighs in. During the first days of quarantine, admittedly I ran around most of the day Business on the Top, Pajama Pants on the Bottom. But then three things happened: 1. I was talking to Renya who said that in the middle of a virtual meeting, the CEO jokingly told everyone to stand up for a wardrobe check. She had on sweatpants decorated with little strawberries. Everyone else stood up but she refused to and it was horrifying. 2.  It's an unpleasant moment at about 8pm when you have to change from your day pajama pants into your night pajama pants. And just a little too easy for your day pajama pants to also become your night pajama pants. At the end of the day (literally), the problem with quarantine is the days become the next day anyway so certain hyper-vigilant steps are required such as pants.  3. Videos like this one:    Early on, someone at a work video mee

When I went into the bathroom to take a shower, a stinkbug was making his way up the mirror. He was a sizable stinkbug. Frankly, my motivation to deal with him at that time was limited. I got in the shower. photocredit: Old Dominion Wildlife When I came out of the shower, the stinkbug was floating in a glass of water by the back edge of the sink, right under the mirror. The beast was stone cold dead. I flushed him down the toilet. That was the most exciting thing that happened on Thursday.