Place Your Bets

Our university decided to reopen in person next week.

Then get everybody tested.

Which will bring up the positivity rates.

Then we’ll close.

Then reopen.

Get everybody tested.

Bring up the positivity rates.



And so on into the infinity.

Let’s place bets on when students – who are paying and getting in debt to get jerked around like this – will get fed up.

I’m betting on “absolutely never, not in a million years, we will all die of extreme old age before they evince any discontent.”

Place your bets!

P.S. Did I mention that our governor invested some of his Democratic billions into the testing company we are all forced to use for this exercise?

COVID Offices

After a conversation with a colleague, I realized the following. Many women have their home offices in the living room. Or somewhere where they can have a clear line of sight into wherever the kids are. A mother often doesn’t have a door on her home office because there are times when she can’t afford to seclude herself from what’s going on. And you don’t even have to be a mother. When we first bought our house, I set up my home office in what was supposed to be a dining room to be close to the kitchen while things are on the stove. (Also, that room has a carpet. What kind of an idiot eats on a carpet? It’s very unhygienic.)

All these women got screwed when COVID hit. I have a big beautiful office with a secretary at work but if your only office is a home office, and people are always there. . . It’s not good.

Ad Algorithm

Facebook finally figured out that I don’t drink alcohol and is now sending me millions of ads for alcohol-free cocktails.

Now let’s wait for it to figure out that I’m even less likely to drink alcohol-free cocktails than I am to drink alcohol.

P.S. I’m obligated to post on Facebook as part of my job duties, so please no advice to drop Facebook.