Today, my toddler combed my hair for me. Or at least I thought she combed my hair for me.
Turns out she was using a marker. Without the cap on. So now my scalp is covered in dark blue lines. Not too obvious, except for the spots where she “combed” below my hair line.
That same toddler is now on banana number two. Banana number one was devoured no more than an hour ago, and the banana peel was discovered on the floor roughly half an hour ago. She would likely consume more bananas, but I have already blended them into a smoothie.
In other news, we rented Frozen 2 yesterday, and have now watched it approximately one billion times. We must have gotten stuck in some sort of time warp to make that possible, but I’m positive it has been that many times. At least.
In Covid-19 news, a popular Japanese comedian died last night. He used to do an animal show that was pretty funny, though the part of me that enjoyed the show regularly fought with the part of me that felt it was unfair to the animals, particularly the (hilarious) chimpanzee in overalls.
Apparently, he’s notorious for encouraging inappropriate behaviour towards women in his skits. I don’t know the details, but that’s never cool.
Regardless, no one deserves to die in isolation, whether at home or in hospital, and I hope and pray that at least he won’t die in vain, and that people here will finally wake up to the seriousness of the situation that so far they seem to brush off as a problem in China, Europe, the US—anywhere but Japan.
Speaking of Covid-19, whisperings abound that PM Abe will announce a lockdown this week. We shall see. So far, his briefings have had big lead-up for little substance.
My desire? Lock this shit down. I feel like it’s the only way that they’ll keep schools closed, and I really, really want them to keep schools closed. I’m anxious as f* thinking of school starting in April.
Actually, I’m anxious about just about everything right now. Just look at my eyebrows. Well, you can’t see them. But there’s nothing to see as they are gone. Gone, gone, gone like the wind. Oh, trichotillomania. You rear your ugly head far too often these days.
I need to find a new outlet.