CORONA_CATION DAY 9: MY DYSTOPIAN WORLD

Life has gone dystopian.

The bird is back.  There is a Robin that arrives every spring and proceeds to throw itself at my windows until I scream and pass out.  When I wake up, there it is again…. sitting on my truck.

Trying to break through the windshield of my F150.  It  throws itself at the window, fails to break it, then shits on it apparently trying to “soften it up” (excuse my French). It is clearly trying to drive me insane.  If I listen closely I can hear it saying “Just catch the virus already, you know it is inevitable.”

I have gone all Kevin Costner and am fawning over the lemon that we are trying to grow at 8500 feet elevation in the Colorado Rockies. The Robin is determined to get at the tree but I will die before I let it happen.  I will not lose my lemons, like Kevin lost his limes in the dystopian Waterworld.

When the final solution comes, I will still have Eggs Benedict, Lemon Bars and Lemon Drop Martinis.  The rest of the world can deal with it….AND 

Yes, I have the firepower to protect my lemons.

I went to the grocery store yesterday. I dodged and wove and distanced like I was diagnosed anthropophobic (look it up).  I managed to make my way to the veggie section, which was pretty stocked as compared to the frozen corn dog section. There was a guy who seemed to be intentionally trying to intersect me, so add paranoid on to the rest of my phobias I guess. I noticed him when I came in.  He had not taken a small white sanitary wipe and cleaned off his cart.  Neanderthal, or worse yet….politically conservative denier.  I ran from him, I figured if he followed then that would answer the question once and for all.  He didn’t chase.  I came back to get veggies and the PCD avoided me.  Clearly I was a person not to be crossed. 

It was amazing what was cleared from the store shelves.  Most of what I buy was still plentiful; fresh veggies, fish, but the tortillas, flour, eggs, butter and hotdogs had been ravaged.    The hoards had apparently already been through like a starved Viking landing party.  The sugary cereal aisle looked like a tornado had hit it, but the brans and whole grain cereals were still in good shape. 

So basically there are whole households out there, where all the kids are hyped up on cereal and the parents can’t poop. No reason to have all that toilet paper.

Mountain Pig, signing off.