How safe am I at home?

Hello, my masked friends.

I need to start this week by thanking the funny folks on Facebook who have provided countless hours of hilarious GIFs, memes and sarcasm to keep us all entertained.

On the other hand, to the angry mouth-breathers born tragically with no sense of humor and a hypersensitive chip on their shoulder, I have to say, sometimes a joke is just a joke. 

A GIF of a cat wearing sunglasses is not animal abuse. There’s no need to call PETA and it does NOT require a condescending lecture. Feel free to simply enjoy a joke (or not) and we can all move on with our lives. While we’re increasing our social distance, let’s decrease the self-righteous lectures and unnecessary injections of negativity that always end with, “just sayin’.”

No one needs that — or your humorless venom — in these unprecedented times.

Moving right along, I fully understand — and support — the ongoing “safer at home” directive. And I can happily report that I’ve abided by it for all things other than work and essential errands. (Yes, the liquor store is an essential errand, in case anyone was wavering on that.)

But I can’t ignore the perils that always seem to find me at home and elsewhere.

Let’s see, in the past 10 days…

I’ve snapped the hell out of my right ear with the elastic from my face mask.

I’ve dumped myself quite unceremoniously out of the new hammock my sweet husband installed on our back deck.

I’ve rolled my wheeled, adjustable, work-at-home desk over my pinkie toe — twice.

I’ve trimmed my own bangs, which was not so much unsafe as it is unsightly for the time being. (Granted, perhaps I should have completed that task BEFORE heading to the aforementioned liquor store.)

I spilled half a bag of Jolly Rancher jelly beans — on the hardwood floor, just to be sure they skittered under the couch and covered as large an area as possible. Then I picked up the TV remote to call my parents.

I’ve stabbed myself with tiny but sharp and pointy nail scissors. Of course, this didn’t happen while I was actually doing my nails. I was instead using them to cut open a novelty anniversary gift from my parents. 

Stan and I will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary on Friday, April 10. To help keep us entertained during this health crisis, my mom sent us a nostalgic favorite game — Bop It. 

Perhaps you’ve heard of it. Within 15 minutes, we were in a heated battle for the high score that could have led to divorce. (I held the title for all of six minutes until Stan bested my score of 54 with his own 72).

Bop-It or not, it’s tough to believe a decade has passed since I spent the happiest day of my life exchanging vows in front of relatives and friends at the Key West Garden Club. 

And I can’t imagine spending this time of isolation with anyone but my best friend, now and forever.

Be well, Florida Keys, we’ll get through this together.

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