Last year was inarguably the best year of my life. Society shutting down finally gave me the opportunity to live my life the way I wanted, away from judgemental eyes. Here are all the bucket list items that I used to enhance my life, all thanks to the pandemic:
Be the hero in a dystopian fantasy
The virus was spreading. Every interaction was a chance at infection. No, Covid-19 isn’t the zombie virus, but I was able to pretend. I finally got the chance to live through a pseudo-zombie-pocalypse. I had to prepare. In case of economic collapse I bought a lifetime supply of toilet paper. To avoid contamination I refused to leave the house without a full hazmat suit. I protected my home from intruders by filling the yard with landmines. I need to give the GrubHub driver very specific delivery instructions.
Make extroverts jealous of me for a change
This was the introverts year to shine. Without pesky social interaction I was finally able to finish my house fortifications in peace. I was able to secure my water supply after society collapses by building my urine-to-water recycling device. Meanwhile extroverts are getting their therapists to coach them away from viewing people as “friends” and towards viewing them as “pestilence filled walking corpses.” I’ve been commissioned to write a self-help book on the subject.
Go to the bathroom while participating in a work meeting
After so many years of denying myself basic human needs through boring work meetings, this year Zoom gave us the gift of deactivated cameras and the ability to go to the bathroom during meetings without anybody noticing. Finally, instant relief.
See Minnesotan culture dominate fashion trends
With barbershops closed down we stopped getting haircuts. Men stopped shaving. Flannel made a comeback. Fashion companies introduced “Lumberjack-chique.” We’re all Paul Bunyan now. Minnesotan culture is relevant for the first time since Prince died. The gore-covered self-defense axe is now my favorite fashion accessory, and I’ve assumed leadership of the local neighborhood’s Paul Bunyan Zombie Defense Corps.
Take a vow of celibacy
Celibate people have more time to focus on learning new skills, like scavenging for food and fighting off the infected. They’re also much less likely to suffer through unplanned pregancy, divorce, or being infected by their partner. 2020 gave me a chance to try this lifestyle. I’ve only seen one woman outside of the grocery store in 308 days and she didn’t think my hazmat suit was sexy, so this one is going very well.
Avoid looking homeless by shaving head
I always wondered if I’d feel more like Vin Diesel or Community’s Dean Pelton with a shaved head. Eight months of dedicated Lumbjack-chique left me looking like an especially crazy homeless person, presenting a good excuse to try. Turns out I look like Dean Pelton trying to be Vin Diesel. The last GrubHub driver to make it through my front yard says it’s working.
Accidentally expose genitals to boss
Months of vigilance gradually wore me down. I started getting sloppy. Eventually one of my trips to the bathroom during a Zoom meeting resulted in shocked gasps. I had accidentally shown the goods to my boss. Though I have to admit that, after a 308 day vow of celibacy, I’m not entirely sure it was accidental…
Protect my lifestyle from societal meddling
I couldn’t let a vaccine for the virus force me back to the way life was before. I spread rumors that Bill Gates was using the vaccine to implant microchips in people. I convinced people that the vaccine was actually a way to spread the virus and reduce human population. I got enough attention that Vladimir Putin ordered KGB operatives to support my efforts. I’ve earned several more months of enjoying my precious new lifestyle.