Self-isolation Kate doesn’t wear makeup. What’s the point? I’d still look like me only in colour. I’m not sure if she washes her hair yet either. I’ll get back to you on that tomorrow. The situation is evolving.
Today was my first work day in isolation. And my first day of deviating from my Monday through Friday routine. The routine I follow religiously; it is very much centered around stopping at Starbucks on my way to the office to pick up my first coffee of the day.
My love for coffee knows no bounds. Not a one. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem — well, Houston, I have a problem. I am in self-isolation and I don’t have access to my coffee.
Let me unpack it for you. I seriously considered dusting off the coffee pot we keep in the basement that we only pull out when my mother in law is visiting — we don’t have any cream, but I know we have her CoffeeMate in the cupboard. I could drink it black I suppose. But I wasn’t quite there yet.
You see, I have a plan B — three words: Skip the Dishes. Is it selfish to expose another human being to my flu-like symptoms so I can get my caffeine fix? I didn’t think so either. I could provide special instructions whereby the delivery person could leave the coffee six feet from our front door as a precautionary buffer. It would be fine.
However, an opportunity presented itself today as a result of the great toy purge of 2020.
“Hey, hun, when you take all this stuff wherever you are taking it can you please pick me up a coffee on your way home? I really love you. So much.” Picture the voice your mother used to use when she was talking to someone on the phone that was not one of her kids, yeah, nicer than that.
“No.” He replied.
Well, I tried. I certainly wasn’t going to beg. I still had the Skip the Dishes option if I needed it. To be clear, Heath has never bought a coffee in his entire life. The smell of it gives him a headache, so I knew the answer to the question before I asked it. I put on a brave face and went about my work opting for a mint tea in my giant Avengers mug.
When Heath got home he did not come in the door empty handed. In addition to the dozen eggs he bought unknowingly adding to the other two dozen in the fridge (Hoarders: Pandemic Edition) he brought me a coffee!
It was tall. It was black. It was very much appreciated. I was more surprised by his actions this morning than on the morning he proposed. I almost kissed him, but he is healthy, so instead we did the weird ankle kick thing and went about our day. No we didn’t. I have fragile ankles.
Day 2 Observations
1. I think my dining room chairs are too low for the height of the table. I could ask Heath to adjust the table but he bought me a coffee today, so that’s likely a Day 6 conversation. In the meantime, does anyone know if they produce phone books anymore? I need one and a half. Thank you in advance.
2. I receive emails, daily, from companies that I’ve purchased things from who feel the need to reassure me they have a plan in place for COVID-19.
Thank you, Domino’s. “Legal Stuff” is literally my favourite!
3. My hands are raw from the hand washing. Lady Macbeth had nothing on me. Wash early and often ladies and gentlemen.
Self-isolation Kate is always scrubbed in and ready for surgery.
4. My colleagues are work horses, literally.
Here they are, left to right: Lois, Sharon and Bram. It is Lois’ birthday today.
5. When it comes to clothing, self-isolation Kate doesn’t give AF. There is little regard for how the patterns compliment each other, or don’t.
Posing in a flattering way is always top of mind when the four-year old photographer isn’t tall enough to get the right angle. In the event I forget to open my eyes for the photo (I’m very tired after all) photo editor in Instagram is a real life saver. Photos are edited in a way that maintain the integrity of the images while enhancing their quality in a subtle way. I could teach a Masterclass in photo editing, clearly.
And that’s a wrap on Day 2.
Stay healthy, folks!
Kate
The Donkey Made Me Do It 