We have an inordinate amount of computer and accessory cords and they are all directly in my path trying to trip me so I break an ankle. And then since I don’t want to go to the emergency room and catch COVID-19, and we’re in the mountains, I’d have to use the available materials and use a tree branch to splint my foot, wrapping it with homemade twine from pine needles. Of course it would heal crooked and I’d need extensive surgery and rehab when this quarantine is done.

I swear, my own computer has a power cord, a mouse cord, and a headphone cord. I used to have bluetooth and wireless versions of these. Where did they go? Poppy’s computer has a power cord and mouse cord as well as a USB adapter thing with a couple of cords I have no idea about (audio? mouse? power? the evil one that serves no purpose except to try to trip you?). There’s Thaddeus’s Chromebook/school device and its cord, and his iPad, Poppy’s Kindle Fire, about 56 e-reader cords, 27 phone cords (although I can never find one when I need it) and a cord to my Remarkable. And the power strips for the lamps and humidifiers.

I mean basically I’m going to be one of those COVID victims who dies of other causes because I can’t get medical attention for my broken hip or whatever.

Poppy is watching High School Musical 2. And then there is apparently a High School Musical series. The Rapture can’t come soon enough.

Homeschooling continues to be an absolute failure. Unless you count High School Musical as a lesson in how not to be a jerk. “Don’t be like Sharpay.” For the love of God, what kind of name is Sharpay?

Cal went back down the hill to home and did the laundry, grabbed the mail and extra Amazon packages (shout out to our next-door neighbors who collect them for us) and hit the grocery store to restock. Now that we have accepted the fact that we’ll be here for a long time, our food stash could compete with Doomsday Preppers. I mean not really, but it feels like that.

This is all so bizarre.