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My Year of House Arrest and Relaxation

Lauren Reeves
6 min readMar 10, 2021

When stay-at-home orders began, I thought, Fuck yes, this is gonna be the best two weeks of my life! Now, here we are, a year later. It feels like I’ve been sentenced to an upscale women’s prison like the one Martha Stewart went to. Here, I grow herbs and keep sourdough starter alive. I propagate my plant cuttings in recycled pickle jars and swap them with my neighborhood plant group. I’ve turned into some kind of old-timey pioneer woman, my targeted Instagram ads are now just, “Do you want to churn butter?” Yes bitch, yes I do.

My dog, giving me a reason to go outside.

It’s been more than a year since I’ve eaten in a restaurant, and I don’t even know if I remember how to do it. When the host asks, “How many?” is that when I’m supposed to panic scream, “HOW MANY WHAT??” The last time I went out to dinner was right before lockdown, a time when people were still elbow bumping and masks hadn’t even been invented yet. The creators of Game of Thrones were seated at the table next to me. I remember thinking, “Well, Coronavirus can’t be that bad if these dorks are eating out. They have so much to live for.”

In the beginning of quarantine I got really into Feng Shui. No wonder I’ve had trouble sleeping my entire life, my bed wasn’t angled to the southwest! I discovered the different baguas of my home and rearranged my furniture accordingly. A normal person might think it’s strange to put windchimes…

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Lauren Reeves
Lauren Reeves

Written by Lauren Reeves

Comedy Writer, Humorist, TV Producer, Cool Gay Aunt 🌈 thelaurenreeves.com

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