COVID-19: Cook the dogs, they taste like chicken

I learned a long time ago that there was no point planning ahead.
In my youth, I realized there was no point counting on people. My dad made me, with my mom, then he died. Then my grandparents died. Then my mom died. So I pretty much knew there would be nobody to put the Easter eggs in the basket.
And then my husband left me with three little kids, so...
He was the last person I counted on.
I remarried 10 years later, and I love Scott, but I can't count on him.
He's a great guy, a good provider, sincere, kind, loving, wonderful.
But he's going to die.
I know that. Or I'm going to die.
That's a given.
September 11 was the last nail in my trust coffin.
It was in 2001 that I gave up completely on saving and planning.
It was in that year that I gave my house back to the bank and walked away from my normal life.
I have been a vagabond ever since.
So when the pandemic came, I was ready for it, more or less.
My career was in shambles and I had no prospect of work.
I had already spent a couple of decades pretty much hanging around the house, making enough money to keep going but never quite getting on that fast track -- the house, the cottage, and so on.
I do have three dogs, but I know they are going to die.
I can count on that. So I keep feeding them, and petting them, and waiting.
Other than that, everything is the same; it rarely changes from day to day.
I like to eat so I do that. I play video games because I don't have to invest in them.
I don't even have any friends anymore except virtual friends, and even them, I'm finding, are dying at a rapid rate.
Some might say my life is pure waste of time.
And I say, how's your life going?
How are those savings you've spent so many years coveting?
How's that cottage you can't go to?
How's that job that dropped you like a hot potato as soon as people figured they needed to save themselves?
And what do you tell those kids who you promised would be the chosen people because you sent them to a high priced university? Sure, they can still make a good living, but where do they spend their money? Not in restaurants or bars. Not at a toney golf club.
They can't even go to Vegas, for Christ's sake!
Your kids are now pretty much like my kids and I didn't invest nearly as much in mine as you did in yours.
That thought is making feel superior.

I do have regrets.
I regret getting my hair dyed a month and a half ago.
I should have gone with my instincts and simply gone grey.
I regret convincing my husband to buy RRSPs, enough to bury him, let's face it.
We could have spent that money on liquor!
Besides, the funeral business is in dire straits. You die, and nobody can come and weep on your coffin.
Pretty soon, we'll be able to just put the grandparents in the recycle bin.
I also regret quitting drinking on the first of March.
I wanted to get healthy, lose a bit of weight, and find my waist again.
And look what that got me?
Hoping for the future.
I'm sitting here, drinking water from the Soda Stream and watching Donald Trump make Wolf Blitzer's head explode.
Shoulda put my money on Jose Cuervo.
Now, there's a dude you can count on.
As I said, I have few regrets.
I had no plans to go on a cruise, or visit Italy.
No plans to go to the Bluesfest.
I have HBO.
So pass the Tequila, Sheila and lay down and love me again.
Live life like you're Jimmy Buffett.
Put a shrimp on the barbie, and watch out for those pop tops.
No, wait. We had shrimp last night.
Tonight we'll have fish.
Maybe we'll switch it up and have turkey burgers.
I don't care one way or the other.

I don't like to think too far ahead but I have one fear.
If the grocery stores finally close, I'm fucked.
My freezer died a year ago, and I didn't get a new one.
Oh well, we can always cook the dogs.
I hear they taste like chicken.
Kidding.
Cook the husband instead.

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Rose's Cantina

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