Guess what, I’m immune to coronavirus -I mean, an alien!- (Chapter 8)

8th of April, 2020

Ladies and gentlemen, I can finally say goodbye to those sleepless nights staring at the ceiling… I’m officially immune. Take that, COVID-19! When Dr. Crownie told me over the phone, my three-eyed-glasses almost crashed on the floor from the excitement. I got so pumped that I immediately created an event on Facebook to celebrate my immunity. I invited Dave, Dr. Crownie and his lab assistant, and his weird four-legged creature with a tail and a big tongue. Shortly after everyone started rejecting my invitation: “Sorry mate, can’t make it”. “Hopefully next time”. “Quite busy at the moment”. “Unfortunately I got my online shiatsu massage scheduled at that time”.

How silly of me. Obviously, no one would be able to come to my party. Sometimes I feel like I’m from another planet. Do you ever feel this way?

So here’s the thing. (DISCLAIMER: I’m not 100% sure this is true, but hey, who is?) Right now, I might be the only living creature who can break the rules and get away with it.

I could go out for a run 15 times a day. Eat mindfully in empty restaurants (cooking my food and quickly refilling my cup of water after drinking). I could travel around Europe in a private jet (It’s not actually a private jet, but I would be the only passenger anyway, so it would be super cool) and go sightseeing in ghost cities. I could even buy one banana in every single supermarket in town (for market research purposes, you got me).

There’re so many things I could do that I don’t know where to start… Truth is, it might eventually get boring -and potentially quite depressing-. I need to start thinking of ways I could clone myself or just anyone really… But someone COVID-19-proof. And then we could travel the world, less than two meters apart, holding each other’s hands… And it would feel like a dream. These are just my humble ideas. What would YOU do if you were immune too? 😉

Me, my dishes and I

Dear Sir or Madam,

Sometimes I do the dishes in my dreams. But not only my dishes. I also sneak into all my neighbours’ kitchens. I don’t even wonder why. I just do it. But as a matter of a fact, I hate doing the dishes. I either burn or freeze my hands because the water never seems to be at the right temperature. The sink is too low for my back. And the citrus smell of the washing up liquid makes me sick.

Much to my surprise, I really enjoy washing dishes in my dreams. They say they’ve even heard me hum cheerful melodies sometimes. Nothing seems to worry me. I’m suddenly immersed in a permanent carpe diem: just me, my dishes and I. Enjoying the warmth of the water, the lovely smell of the washing up liquid and effortlessly removing dirt and grease. But then my alarm abruptly wakes me up and I rush to the kitchen to check… And yes, ladies and gentlemen, my dishes are still dirty. A bit dirtier than the day before.

To be honest, sometimes I think of doing the dishes. But as I approach the sink I feel a tight knot in my stomach and I need to run away. Once I accumulated so many dirty plates that I had to use my dog’s bowl. I can’t remember the last time I used cutlery: eating with your hands definitely helps enhance your brain performance.

I would love to be able to wash my dishes in the washing machine. People who can’t fit a dishwasher in their matchbox kitchen deserve a solution. We’re in the 21st century after all, right? Our printers can print, scan and photocopy, but washing machines can’t wash both clothes and dishes. What a shame. I know, I know. You must be thinking now that I’m hopelessly lazy. I get your point, but you know I work hard in my dreams. If that counts. I think it does. But for some reason, I’m not able to wash dishes in real life. Call it laziness but I start to suspect I suffer from a serious phobia. That’s why I ask you, please, if you would consider manufacturing a washing-machine-dishwasher. I have some ideas in mind, so please do not hesitate to contact me.

Yours faithfully,

Me, my dishes and I