the ocean

We finally decided to upgrade to a king size bed, which arrived this weekend. The extra space is an unalloyed delight and the dog is demonstrably less afraid that we will crush her in our sleep now. However, because it was us, it could not help but also be a disaster.

We love our current queen sized bed frame, which is super cute and comfortable and cost way more than I would like to admit to spending on such a thing. So rather than get rid of it, we decided to save it for when we move into a bigger place and have a third bedroom to outfit. So we rented a storage unit, in the middle of a pandemic, at the place with the world’s chattiest staff.

“You can also use it as a man cave,” they explained. “Just come over here whenever you feel like it and hang out.”

Because who doesn’t dream of sitting in a tiny, windowless room and, I don’t know, looking at their stuff?

The plan was for frame, mattress, and box spring to go to storage. Except it turns out the box spring wouldn’t fit down our stairs. The good news is that it would scrape the paint off our walls. Cut to me attacking the box spring with a handsaw so that, while no longer usable in any form, it could at least depart from our lives forever. It was weirdly satisfying.

Then there was the giant truck the storage place lent us to move these items. It moved with a gazelle like grace, obviously, and we completely did not accidentally drive it all the way down North Avenue with the rear sliding door wide open. 

The important thing is that no one was harmed.

Oh, and our new bed frame doesn’t arrive until late December, so we are low riding it like Mike and Carol Brady until then. I like to think being closer to the floor brings you nearer to god.

Well, my lawyer parody show has released another video. I wrote part of this one, though it was a collaboration, so obviously any part of it you don't like is not my doing. It's about the coronavirus! Because clearly that hasn't gotten enough press this year.

I don't think it's a secret that the pandemic has left some of us with a lot more time on our hands. Not that my life was a constant glittering social whirl before, but I did get out a bit, largely to eat and talk shit about people. So after weaving and teaching myself how to mosaic, I wrote a book. It's available on Amazon, alongside hot dog steamers and lightly used gym shorts.

Check it out at https://www.amazon.com/Pandemic-Vanity-Project-Jay-Schleppenbach/dp/B08MSQ3X4J/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=pandemic+vanity+project &qid=1604860753&sr=8-1. Or not is also okay. Free country and all.

Pandemic Halloween was a mildly interesting thing, I guess. We left the house so as to avoid having to navigate any sort of social contact with strangers' children, but some of our neighbors went to elaborate lengths to continue to hand out candy, such as creating a system of pipes to carry candy from a second floor window to waiting kids below. I also saw some creative approaches on Facebook, like just keeping the kids home to hunt for candy there. I approve of that idea, if only because it creates the possibility of finding stray packs of Skittles in one's couch for months to come. One never knows when a sugar rush will come in handy.