This morning, Andrea asked, “What time’s your call?” “What time is it?” I asked in reply.
“8:16.”
I try to peel my eyes open. There is something down here (not the coronavirus) that has caused my allergies to kick in. One morning, I feared I had conjunctivitis but thankfully, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
“Kenny Rogers died!” Andrea announces.
“Oh no! Poor Dolly!”
“I like that your first thought is Dolly.” Andrea muses.
I like that I have 14 minutes to chug a coffee and that I’m not dialing into a video call. I look at my phone. There’s a voice mail. I listen to it and learn that our dryer is on the way. Andrea shuts me in the bedroom with the pets to take my call. The dryer rolls in and Andrea starts a load of laundry before the delivery man even leaves our street.
Later, we’re standing in what will eventually be the “library” or office.
“Maybe you should change your shirt!” Andrea cheerfully suggests.
“Are you saying I smell?” I ask.
“Maybe your natural deodorant doesn’t work in the south?” Andrea says. I think about my very large supply of natural deodorant and hope she’s wrong.
“I’m going to stick this by your armpit!” Andrea says, pressing a sticker to me.
I ignore her.
“Did you see what it was?!” Andrea asks, plucking the sticker back off and showing it to me, laughing maniacally. It’s a small tombstone with skull and crossbones on it.
“You’re my favorite little pigpen!” Andrea says. I contemplate homicide but then I’d have to go to jail which would blow up my social distancing spot. I need to stay the course and have Andrea hang pictures. The new dryer pings and Andrea thrusts a clean shirt at me. I dial into another call. I don’t mind the calls but wish they were for another reason than COVID-19. The calls give me a reason to sit down and take breaks. I hear Andrea hanging pictures.
If you’re keeping track at home, another item we don’t need to buy for years to come is cleaning supplies. Which is ironic because we, blessedly, had a cleaner come into our Massachusetts home and she would bring her own Fabuloso. As we prepared for our move, I found cleaning supplies under the sink, in the basement and in a closet. Good to know I can keep our new house clean since we’ll apparently be spending a lot of time in it.
Andrea has discovered that during the Covid crisis, the neighboring brewery is delivering. They show and ask for a photo op with Andrea so they can promote their delivery on social media. Andrea may not smell, but she does look like a hobo. She’s my favorite hobo. Andrea offers up Wrigley for the photo op.
Another delivery of beer arrives at our door today.
“Well – you want to keep them in business!” Andrea says.
“I don’t think that will be a problem.” I chuckle.
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