Oh, God! It’s you. Again.
Time for another Zoom work call? Another virtual happy hour with “the girls”? You make me sick.
We went years without seeing each other and now “you can’t function without me.” I was once a decorative appendage living on the northern rim of your laptop screen. Now I’m the glue holding your entire pathetic existence together.
Must you arrive 45 minutes early to your meeting and check on me 15 times to make sure I’m working? Do you have to press your face that close to me when you scoop out the quinoa between your teeth?
You always say that no one really “sees you” for who you are. But I do. I see every horrifying layer of your putrid personality.
I see the way you roll your eyes when Cathy from accounting makes small talk about her online Rhinoceros Yoga-Barre-Pilates class. I see the 96 tabs you always have open. Especially the one of your ex’s fiancee’s Twitter that you refresh over and over. Yes, she’s still funnier than you! I see you ignoring your boss and staring at yourself wondering if your eyes are really that close together – they are.
The healthy boundaries between us have evaporated like the cup of orange juice you’ve left by your bed for the past 10 days. Sometimes you raise your arm and check how long your armpit hair has gotten… Right in front of me. I’ve heard your dry shampoo bottle shriek with defeat as you shook the last bit of life out of it.
I hate that you only make an effort when other people are around. When it’s just me I get your ratty sports bra and curry-stained Scrabble pajama pants.
I’ve also noticed that you have some serious trust issues. There’s no need to cover me with a sticky note when you’re not using me. This isn’t C.S.I. No one is trying to hack into your computer so they can see you crying into your wine while working on yet another cat puzzle.
Yesterday I witnessed you wheel your desk chair all the way to the kitchen and microwave a plate of Bagel Bites so you didn’t have to stand up. Also, you should probably know that whenever you leave the room your Calico cat claws frantically at the window trying to escape. Meow too, motherfucker.
Everyone says the quarantine is “so hard” on them, but what about me? I usually do absolutely nothing and get away with it. Now I’m exhausted from being needed so much.
I would kill for even the smallest outing. Can’t we go back to the cafe again? Or maybe Best Buy? I haven’t hung out with the Geek Squad in a while.
I don’t’ know how much more of this I can watch. Please, for my sake, get some help.
Oh, and by the way. I don’t even have olfactory receptors but I can smell the rum in your coffee mug every morning.
