Dear Mom;
Well, it’s been one month now since they locked me up and this is the first time I’ve sat down and written to you. I’m really sorry about that!
It’s just that… well, honestly, I can’t come up with a good excuse.
I wake up in the morning, make coffee, stare at the wall for a while, re-heat the coffee in the microwave, take a nap, watch the evening news, and before you know it, it’s time to go to bed again.
Nobody told me it was going to be like this! Back in the good old days (you know… the days before I went “inside”) I used to dream about having days like this! I thought, “How cool would it be to have nothing on the calendar… no phone calls to answer… no reason to shave or change out of my PJs… all that PLUSunlimited access to the cookie jar.”
Now my heart races with excitement when I get that robocall offering to refinance my current, high-interest mortgage rate.
And before you ask, yes, I have already finished alphabetizing my spice rack, my bookshelves AND the tool shed (although I’ll admit; it was hard to decide whether to file the garden trowel under “G” or “T”).
And yes, I have also re-hung all the pictures on the wall in chronological order AND color-coded the shirts in my closet.
I send off a new “Letter to the Editor” every day, but somehow, they don’t seem to be at all interested in my plans for harvesting all the goose poop from public parks and using it to power the city.
Neanderthals!
You know, at the beginning of this confinement I thought this might be a great time to lose a little of that “spare tire” I’ve started carrying. So far that’s not happening. It might have something to do with my access to the aforementioned cookie jar or the completely stationary nature of my other pet project: looking for secret messages hidden in the wallpaper patterns.
Oh well… thanks for listening. I hope you’re doing well.
Things could be worse, I guess. I could be actually locked up… actually unable to connect with friends and loved ones… actually deprived of a livelihood or a future the way some folks are today instead of just imagining myself in that situation.
For now, I’ll just sit here and wait for Steve Harvey to call and tell me I won the Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes.
… although what in the world I’d do with the money, I have no idea.
Signed;
- Your loving son
Christmas 2019 is going to be very different for me from most Christmases in my recent memory.
Russellings of the Spirit 