Sign #623 of my quarantine-induced descent into madness: There’s a lovely tree next to our house that has, unfortunately, grown to the point where the branches scrape against our bedroom window when it’s windy. It sounds like a child screaming and has jarred me awake many nights.

Our bedroom is on the second floor, thus not easily reachable, and no tree service can come out any time soon. So, this morning I opened our bedroom window, took off the screen, and leaned out with a bread knife and hacked/trimmed the branches.

Should I have gotten a ladder instead? Probably. Should I have asked the neighbors for a heavily-sanitized set of garden sheers? Almost certainly. Did I look ridiculous leaning way out of my window with a bread knife? Absolutely. Will I sleep better tonight? Hopefully.