This pandemic is a barrel of monkeys
I used to be excited on Fridays. I used to have interesting plans. My weekends were non-stop hectic, my time was in high demand. Now I live in repeated patterns, I’m a servant to boring routines. A fleshy teenage automaton, waiting for science to intervene. Oh, I'm readier than a girl-scout, I’m more prepared than a marine, I’ll be out the door like a cartoon coyote, the second I’m shot with vaccine.
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