Day 144. This has by far been our hardest day as a family unit in quarantine.

People are legit worried about us-- family, close friends.

I just want to say to every other single mother out there: I see you.

Also, I am on my third margarita on a Sunday night and I just DNGAF.

Like, you know it's bad when the kids have spent the whole day alternately screaming and tearing the house apart, and you personally are *excited* about the arrival of a new set of sheets from Target, while your friends are strategizing about how to give you a moment to breathe.

And meanwhile you're still stuck on the vivid dream you had two nights ago where you got to hug your friend who died in May and cried doing it, but couldn't tell her why, because she didn't realize she was dead or about to die.

These times are so fucked up. I am so tired.

I have a magical story in my head that every other major political commentator is handling this way better than I am, and that I am destroying my future career prospects by being so public about how hard it is, just in case you thought I had the mindset thing down BTW.