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2020 continues to keep us in its clutches

My Sentiments Exactly

Well, we’re two weeks deep. Whatcha thinking?

Yeah, me, too. Meh. For all intents and purposes, as they say.

Oh and hey, BT dubs, why do they say that? I mean, if you’ve got to preface a statement with “For all intents and purposes,” are you just assuming a certain level of distrust on the part of your addressee?

Hmm.

It’s sort of like a qualifier; something of a disclaimer — or worse, shameless begging for credibility. Let’s face it, this is basically the equivalent of saying, “I swear, I’m telling the truth,” a’ight?

I might be overthinking things. So, impeach me. Again.

Er, I mean, sue me.

Sigh.

Either way, the whole point is that this year feels like a whole big bunch of “same old, same old,” to me.

Near as I can tell, 2021’s just an icky extension of crummy old 2020 thus far. It’s “2020: The Sequel.”

Turmoil. Discord. Fear. Bad behavior. Disrespect. Insolence. Dishonesty. Sadness. Disappointment. Anxiety. Contempt.

And that’s just from looking in the mirror after my morning weigh-in!

Seriously, humans. Let’s get it together as a race, already. #Peace #Respect #Kindness

But to get back to the Groundhog’s Day of a year that was and still is — what is it going to take to finally flip the calendar, yo?

I mean, shoot, a majority of our mail is still trapped in some kind of time warp apparently?

For starters, I received a coupon from a well-known department store chain for like, $20 off for every nickel I spend or something. All I have to do is make a purchase of $100 or more … by Dec. 15 of last year.

Cool.

It’s no big deal. It’s not like I need to buy any more Christmas presents last year. Er, wait, is Christmas really over? I’m not entirely convinced since I keep getting cards. Every. Single. Day.

Not kidding.

So, hey, just in case you’re still in the mood, maybe pick a relatively mild evening and go a-caroling around your block? Just a thought.

Ooooooooh! And did I tell you? Not that I’m trying to brag or anything but apparently I’m a new, automatic member of the “octagon rewards” program.

That’s right people, a fact that will ensure me a lease payment of under $200 a month for a fully loaded, ultra-safe, faster-than-all-get-out-but-can-seat-a-family-of-22-comfortably gold-encrusted SUV! All I need to do to drive off the lot in that bad boy is just get to the dealership by midnight Dec. 21, 2020. Octagon schmoctagon.

Hmpf.

Eh, there’s always Uber.

Oh well — at least I don’t have to pay the electric bill for December … since IT STILL HAS NOT ARRIVED.

For real.

Hey, if they can be in denial over at WE HOLD THE POWER OVER YOUR POWER company, so can I. Sure I’m wearing 17 layers of clothes. Okay, I know the laptop battery won’t hold out much longer.

Naturally I get tired of trudging to the shopping plaza to charge my cell and iPad every morning and yeah, the camping lantern isn’t that great for night reading, but until I get an invoice, I’m not payin’, capisce?

Besides, none of that is going to matter come Dec. 29, 2020, when I’m a SHOO-IN to win the 87 gazillion dollar jackpot at the local casino, so there!

Who’s laughing NOW, 2020? Wait…

Hang in there, peeps. The Big Guy’s still nearby. And, much like my eventual pot o’ gold, better days await. #InItTogehter #StayStrong

— Kimerer is a columnist stuck between December and January. Hover on over to her blog at www.patriciakimerer.com any day of the year.

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