Waking up at 1,

It’s another day in quarantine.

None of my work is done,

And I feel like an old rusty machine.

Should I eat brunch or lunch?

Screw it, why not both?

I’m going off a hunch,

But I think this day will be full of self-loathe.

Oh boy, time for my Zoom call.

I can’t wait to “participate.”

I guess, once again, I’ll be AWOL,

Trying to fix me up a plate.

Now that that’s done, should I shower?

Or would that be a waste of time?

Hold on, how’d that decision take me a half-hour?

Eh, at least I’ll be able to get rid of all this grime.

Now that the shower’s done,

It’s time for meal three.

I think I’ll warm up a red bean bun,

And maybe down a cup of black tea.

“With all this energy, I shall start my work!”

Or so I say with confidence.

But once again, I shirk.

I left Berkeley, and with it, my competence.

In the blink of an eye, hours have gone by.

I finished three episodes of “Tiger King.”

My actions, I cannot justify.

I’ve been lying down for so long, I just pulled my hamstring.

It’s been a long while since I’ve eaten.

I walk 20 steps down to the fridge.

This quarantine sadness has got me beaten,

But it can be fixed by fish from the farm of Pepperidge.

Oh man, it’s been a real long day.

I did make it out OK, though.

Wait, today was really Friday?

Well, I guess it’s the same thing tomorrow.