Meet Patricia. She’s the one with salsa dripping down her chin from the nachos she just made as her morning snack. The quarantine has really done a number on her self control. Yesterday she had 4 pieces of buttered toast for breakfast. Since she is homeschooling she did a morning snack for the kids, at which point she grabbed an apple for herself out of guilt about the toast. She got hungry again at 1:00 and ate the leftover pizza from the kids’ lunch - but just 2 pieces (that’s not so bad, right??). She was ravenous at 3:00 and all she could think about was the family size box of Cheezits in the pantry which they don’t normally have. She told herself she’d just have one handful and then had 3 because they are crack. For dinner, she was going to do grilled chicken or something but then her husband suggested they support their local Mexican restaurant (what kind of monster doesn’t support local restaurants at a time like this???) so she had cheese dip and enchiladas, takeout. Since she’s been sleeping in, she stayed up late watching a documentary that night, alone, and couldn’t resist the siren song of quick homemade nachos at 11 pm- 3 bags of chips in the pantry and tons of cheese and salsa in the fridge, plus fresh guacamole cannot be resisted. Then she went to bed full of self-loathing, noticing that her underwear felt tight. Tomorrow she’d do better but here she is, more nachos and it’s not even 11:00. Okay, she promises she’ll eat nothing but fruits and vegetables the rest of the day...
As Courtney was handed the rule pamphlet, she swore she saw the Da Vinci code. Symbols swirled around, English words became foreign and strange. She somehow now knows how to set up a VCR after reading them, but still does not quite understand how to win atMahjong.
Last week she ordered each of them one of those gadgets that shatters your car window in case of a full water immersion. She also ordered a wind up radio. You know, in case the power grid goes down. She changed the air filters in the house last month, and commented that Olive Garden is a heck of a deal if you get a family sized pan with a five dollar take-home add-on. She’s been cracking open a Bud heavy after yoga class lately, and finally decided to try out a MyPillow.
But here she sits, six years after her appointment with WIDK reporting on milk prices, beauty pageants, the occasional car theft, Alderman election scandals, and downtown green space clean up efforts. This stupid little town doesn’t deserve her. She’s meant for greatness, and she despises their perky greetings on the streets....
