I was really looking forward to a Zoom meeting, except it wasn't on Zoom, it was on Houseparty, but I, for some odd reason, downloaded Clubhouse from the app store after searching the internet streets to see if Clubhouse was was legit, and wouldn't steal or share my information with unscrupulous third parties, or cause my phone to self-destruct like Mission Impossible. (It is, and it won't.)
I know. What?
So I hurried and downloaded Houseparty (sans internet research) from the app store in time to refer to the original email invitation and read, in a new email, that the meeting had been cancelled, because not enough participants had downloaded the app.
I'm still wondering what was up with the change from Zoom. It's been a quarantine rockstar.
I'm up and refreshed and dressed, though, in actual clothes that make me look like I care, and not looking like a quarantine troll. I'm not sure why I sprayed a little perfume, but I did. Maybe because it was just sitting there looking neglected.
Yesterday was kind of a bummer after reading news that an old acquaintance passed away, so maybe the events of the day are what was supposed to happen. Maybe I was supposed to get moving, and not lay around all day.
I think I'll go and get myself some chocolate chip ice cream, and when I come back, I'll search the internet streets for florist quarantine scams, because, as much as I adore peace lilies, two absolutely beautiful plants were delivered today, but I didn't order either of them.
I can't say that I regret someone's mistake.
Did I spray the baskets with Lysol, and check for hitchhiking cicadas?
Oh, you better believe I did.
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