I have enough toilet paper (I think)
I sure did pick the wrong year to try and bring some spirituality into my life didn’t I? 2020 is a real shitshow so far.
But perhaps a state-mandated period of social isolation is just the ticket. The one to take me to the promised land, where golden afternoons slip into violet evenings and grace is all around me.
This is different than the social isolation that I normally practice. This one is official! It’s for the common good. It’s the healthy choice. It’s not weird or sad. It’s my duty as a citizen!
My romantic life. I was asked about my romantic life recently. I didn’t have a good answer. Except for no. No sex. No romance. No men. No life.
It did get me thinking though. When was the last time I felt anything about anyone? Not a sexual desire. Eh. Sex is easy. The body wants what it wants. But beyond that, I haven’t been interested in anyone in a very long time. Everyone I know or meet, they’re all just so dull. My trusty reliable old boredom can’t even find the energy to be bored by them. What is below boredom?
And besides, no one is interested in a stress pooper. But in my defense, I am not alone. LOOK:
STRESS POOPING IS A REAL THING.
(Also, I might be in love with Dr Max.)
So if I am doing my math correctly, and I do believe I am, what we have here is:
global crisis plus social isolation divided by stress pooping = my spiritual awakening and massive emotional growth.