One zoom meeting away from a nervous breakdown, I realized I have to do something to reduce my stress. When am I going to school, now, mom? The West Coast skies are orangish, less Somewhere Over the Rainbow more Apocalypse Now. Ruth Bader Ginsburg, seemingly immortal, passes away.
I can hear the pundits screaming (or rather whispering) about what I should do: yoga, meditation, healthy diet, and a good night’s sleep. Makes sense, I know there are many studies that confirm those theories. But, as I write this, Mitch McConnell announced that he is going to ram through a hearing for a life-long supreme court judge that determines the future of our country. So, you know what? Stretching, thinking, eating broccoli, and not watching Stephen Colbert live is not going to cut it. I need much more.
How about this?
American Academy of Pediatrics changes its recommendation on how much television a teen can watch from limited to whatever.
Instead of sending checks, the federal government sends xanax.
It’s the law, you are not allowed to get out of bed before 10 am
Sweatpants are named the official apparel of the United States of America
The FDA declares: wine is a fruit.
You are allowed to scream out your window at all hours.
Trump voters are not allowed to vote by mail — they have to vote in a packed arena with unmasked coughing COVID-19 positive people.
Aaaaaaah, fantasizing about this while I eat a hamburger, sitting on the couch, watching television, gets me through the day. I know it probably won’t happen but it is easier than doing downward dog.