Can't Spell Furlough Without Ugh

Texas has begun the gradual reopening of the state.
I, however, will continue my social distancing because:
(1) Why risk it?
(2) I never really liked seeing other people to begin with; and
(3) I was furloughed.

The dreaded F word. Luckily, I saw it coming, so I didn't take it too personally.
I get that everyone is stuck at home, but if y'all could just gas up, drive around until the tank is empty, and do that about six times a day...I would really appreciate it. Hopefully, this will blow over quickly. But as they say, hope is pouting in advance. Hope is the richer, bitchier sister of faith.
So I won't hold my breath.

This is not entirely uncharted territory, though.
Lest we forget, this blog was borne out of a time of less-than-employment. We shall overcome, y'all.

And misery boredom loves company. Practically no one is experiencing normal work/life circumstances right now. It just occurred to me that two of our first six months of marriage have been spent inside our apartment, rarely seeing other people. Newlywed phase times a thousand. I'll be registering Tyler as my emotional support animal when I finally have to go back to work.

This quarantine has been a TRIP, though.
Like the rest of the world, we've binged the entire internet. Unlike the rest of the world, I was most intrigued horrified captured by Doc Antle's tiger sex cult. We can all agree that Carol killed her husband, and Joe definitely put a hit out on Carol, but everyone just breezed past the tiger sex cult. And that is now twice that I've typed "tiger sex cult." This is what quarantine has done to me.

In the pursuit of health & safety, I experimented (but a single time) with curbside pickup at H-E-B. You will never hear me utter a disparaging word against the Texan Mecca, but this...this was an experience. I understand that quarantine panic-shoppers caused an unprecedented run on completely unpredictable products. I also understand that stores were changing protocols to meet new health and safety orders. They have my full sympathy blahblahblah.
But the dingbat personal shopper who thought substituting my requested FOUR pounds of various cuts of chicken for FOURTEEN pounds of the largest chicken breasts I have ever seen was a logical move has some explaining to do. I have spent the last month trying to find enough recipes to get rid of what must have been several Dolly Partons worth of chicken breast.
And while we're on the subject, giving me 12 travel size ground coffees instead of a single 1-pound of coffee. I am now dealing with issues not seen since 4th grade Oregon Trail: I have too much meat, and my coffee won't fit in my covered wagon/pantry.

Obviously, I have been driven to drink.
Anyone who hasn't boosted his or her spirits with something spirited is no friend of mine.
Be it warm and comforting, tall and iced, or room temperature and watered down,
I have spent many an afternoon (and morning and evening) whiling away the quarantine with a drink in hand.
So here are my expert recommendations.

Just Another Day in Quaradise 

Also known as a Smirnoff Sparkling Seltzer (or any hard seltzer of your choosing, really).
Pairs well with daily Pure Barre workouts (lift-tone-bubbly?), needlepointing, and delusions of productivity.

Social Distancing Sangria 

Directions:
(1) Desperately forage in your bar for drink materials.
(2) Realize things are dire; run to the bar downstairs and purchase their sangria cocktail kit.
(3) Mix all ingredients; add the leftover bottle of champagne from Easter because they probably didn't include enough booze for your taste/tolerance.
(4) Enjoy! (If you have enough life left within you to actually enjoy something, at this point.)

Rum & COVID-19

Rum + Diet Coke + a squeeze of ennui
Drink while gazing longingly at the apartment pool from your balcony, like a drunken caged bird.

Olde Fashioned

Exactly like an Old Fashioned, but prepared by candlelight with the knowledge that the economy is ruined, half of your children won't survive to adulthood (according to MSM), and you may never escape the shackles of serfdom WFH. Serve (cold enough to cause crop failure) to your feudal lord and return to the fields immediately.

Rainbow Six 

Ingredients: whatever is left because you drank everything else.
Also called a "I've Been Inside So Long Island Iced Tea."

Boxed-In Cab Sauv

Don't judge me. One box holds four bottles. DESPERATE TIMES, PEOPLE.

White-Like-the-Walls Russian

The eggshell walls of my rental apartment are closing in. Yes, I could paint them. But that's a hassle and lockdown is not the time to expend unnecessary energy. Just stumble your way through making a regular White Russian. Loose measurements preferable. If you aren't wearing your robe while doing so, à la Lebowski, who even are you?
Optional: Add a Tide Pod to defeat coronavirus once and for all.


I have yet to find any cocktail recipes involving chicken, so once more unto the breach, dear friends.
And God as my witness, I will never bake bread during this quarantine.