Monday: Make a schedule.
Tuesday: Knit a tiny tuxedo for my ex-boyfriend’s penis, so we can celebrate getting back together when this is all over.
Wednesday: Make a sourdough loaf shaped like the Presidential Coronavirus Task Force.
Thursday: Continue the work of the alchemists using a toothpick, baking soda and a ten-year old box of Jell-O.
Friday: Text ex-boyfriend pic of sourdough Task Force, with a tiny photoshopped scarf on Birx, but delete before sending. Text again and send.
Saturday: Wallow in regret and aromatic bath oils when ex-boyfriend fails to text back.
Saturday: Read up on healing crystals. Try to heal my crystals.
Sunday: Observe neighbors through binoculars. Call 311 because they don’t look unhappy.
Monday: Pray to god for forgiveness for calling 311 on my neighbors.
Tuesday: Call Police on neighbors again. Watch “Humpty Dance” on YouTube.
Wednesday: Tear up as Cuomo says, “Love wins.” Text ex-boyfriend: “I wish you the best even though you deserve to die and your knitted penis tuxedo is small.”
Friday: Fuck love. Masturbation wins. PornHub…
Saturday: Start writing the great American novel. The good American novel. A novel. Write a tweet. Delete tweet.
Sunday: Lie on couch and think about that time I missed a step in 9th grade dance competition.
Monday: Understand why no one could ever love me. If only I hadn’t missed that step in the 9th grade dance recital. That’s probably why ex-boyfriend hasn’t texted. Cry when talk show host says, “Have a good night with the people you love.”
Tuesday: Watch Westworld. Walk around apartment like an injured cyborg still committed to bringing down humanity, while making enchiladas.
Wednesday: Spend two hours trying to find dishwashing fluid on Amazon.
Friday: Throw dishes away.
Saturday: Order dishes on Amazon.
Tuesday: Try to remember what I did yesterday.
Wednesday: Fly kite out apartment window.
Thursday: Watch MC Hammer on YouTube. Add “Hammer Time” to schedule.
Friday: Read article about the importance of routine. Add third-lunch to schedule. Call it “Thunch.”
Saturday: Find out what day it is.
Sunday: Drinking game! Take a sip every time Cuomo says “ventilator.” Pass out at noon feeling New York Tough. Wake in time for Thunch. Revise schedule.
Monday: Download Duolingo app but get distracted by Medium article on the importance of setting goals. Read the first paragraph of 10 different books while thinking about ex-boyfriend.
Tuesday: Water plant. Yell at plant for being so needy and for missing that step in our TikTok video yesterday, “Which is why no one could ever love you!”
Wednesday: Beg plant for forgiveness in open letter to New York Times. Stand across the room holding iPod overheard while playing Peter Gabriel for plant.
Monday: Sound body, sound mind! Add exercise to schedule. Google “fire jumping.”
Tuesday: Say into bathroom mirror, “That’s right Ice Man, I am dangerous!” Eat peanut butter off a spoon in my underwear at two a.m.
Wednesday: New Facebook game! “Your virus name (if you were a deadly pathogen) is the name of the last person you know personally who died of Covid-19, plus the street you grew up on. Go!”
Friday: Shakespeare in the kitchen with empty coffee can: “Alas, poor Lavanza. I knew him well.”
Saturday: Run for governor of my apartment. Address controversy over mail-in ballots. Hold press briefing with stuffed animals masked and six feet apart.
Sunday: Haha. Hahahaha. Hahahahaha. Ha.
Monday: Beach day! Build sand castles using psyllium fiber supplement. Defend kingdom against marauding probiotic capsules. Drink Roman Empire with 8 oz. of water.
Tuesday: Come up with an excuse to get out of Zoom cocktails. Too busy. Need more time to work on schedule.
Wednesday: Ordain myself Emperor of North Apartmentia. Cue marching band music on YouTube and parade through living room nude with blanket cape and toilet bowl plunger as scepter. Declare war with South Apartmentia (the kitchen).
Thursday: Institute draft. All bottles of nail polish five years and older will be called upon to fight in North Apartmentian War of Independence.
Friday: Visit royal doctor (plant) for annual check-up. Learn I have syphilis.
Saturday: Victory over South Apartmentia! Sign peace treaty with Kitchen. Throw toilet paper parade. Make out with throw pillow in hallway without obtaining consent.
Sunday: Wearing clothes with a waistband is an ab workout. Remove pants after an hour of “core.” Check exercise off to do list!
Monday: Stay in bed until 9:55 p.m. Go to kitchen, uncork wine, and commence “Hammer Time.”
Tuesday: Retweet funny meme. Visit ex’s Facebook page. Visit ex’s new girlfriend’s Facebook page. Burn celebratory penis-tux in living room. Jump the flame.
Wednesday: Stay in bed with blinds drawn while reading article on phone about the importance of Vitamin D.
Thriday: I have no bones.
Firmoon: I am material piled on top of material but have no bones.
Saturday: Clarity! Projects are important. Print out all my dick pics and arrange in a photo album.
Sunday night: Roast chicken for dinner! Leave pot in sink to soak overnight. Pull wishbone apart with both hands. Wonder which hand wins.
Monday: Hear me out, what if we miniaturized Dennis Quaid and injected him into COVID-19 patients?
Tuesday: Break wine glass while cheering healthcare workers because pots are still soaking.
Wednesday: Paint my face to look like laughter-tears emoji.
Octopus: Discover a new day between the days called Jarlsberg. Eat the day.
Sandwich: Take a laxative.
Riboflavin: Shit the days.
Sunday: Text senator, ex-boyfriend, and mom links to Humpty Dance and Hammer Time as evidence of COVID-19 conspiracy. Text explanatory follow up video of me dancing without music.
Monday: I’m my own personal protective equipment. I don’t need anyone.
Tuesday: Eat my homemade masks.
Wednesday: Horse high heels.
Thursday: Start digging hole to China. Stop before I get to downstairs apartment. Decide it’s not safe there either.
Today: Do the Macarena alone. Again.