Day 2 (Post 1)

My habitat-mate has the sniffles. Granted, they're sniffles, and not the dry cough of the Dread Virus, but ill news nonetheless. Winter has depleted our store of mucus-collectors. We may be forced to use old clothes, linen tablecloths, or each other.

I've heard it's best to be grateful, in such times, for what blessings we have. I have two blessings to record. 1: The sun was out, which afforded the opportunity for chores outside. I turned the meager garden plot and cut the lawn. 2. The mowing was done without a word from Phil, the neighbor, guardian of the front yard. Perhaps, in time, I shall crave an hour of his hunting plans, his favorite places to steal gravel, and inferred accusations that his dandelions are descendants of mine. He keeps to his own isolation habitat. Sweet silence rules, save the roar of the mower.

The athletes jog at night now. Must we all become night joggers?

My habitat-mate prepared a week's supply of muffins. We have exhausted most of the supply already. Only four muffins remain for tomorrow. After that, muffinlessness.

We may break isolation this night, and venture out for provisions. We aren't concerned about toilet paper--neither of us plans to defecate for the foreseeable future. Nor are we in need of nutrition. Our condiments alone could sustain us for several months. Our chief concerns are coffee, and of course bok choi. In that one plant exists both the crunchy and leafy parts of a salad. For this will we risk hell. That and tater tots.