Updated: Aug 16, 2020
P.A. grew up in Northfield, Vermont and now lives in Oakland, California. His Facebook profile describes him as "a middle-aged married Gay man who struggles daily to keep his inner Diva at Peace." He lives in a Craftsman bungalow with his husband, Orlando De Jesus Jr, and Betty, a toy poodle. P.A. has set himself a goal of writing for 10 minutes per day. He often writes about his work in a skilled nursing facility, his garden, and the challenges of being a first-time home owner in one of the most expensive real estate markets in the U.S.
By P.A. Cooley
Adulting is such an annoying list of daily obligations! It’s not even something we necessarily do for ourselves. We do it because we want OTHER people to feel more comfortable in our company. Now we can’t visit anyone, and keeping myself clean, and sensibly fed, nicely dressed and sober seems to be such a chore in the midst of this pandemic. I honestly can’t imagine how parents of two or more children manage. On the weekends, when I have two entire days of not having to be anywhere (because there is nowhere to go) and not having to answer to anyone (except for he-who-yells) my little craftsman bungalow devolves into The Lord of the Flies. The crumbs from my Goldfish crackers are everywhere. The cats are on tables and shelves licking and knocking things on the floor for the dog to chew and throw up later (puke usually discovered while on a late-night barefoot trip to the bathroom). Dirty clothes are everywhere in small piles, because I act as if the laundry hamper is a mile away and think, “Oh I’ll throw that in the hamper when I get home.” I never do. Currently, we have a broken pipe in the walls, so we cannot wash dishes in the kitchen sink or we fill our garage with water. There are red solo cups and Dixie paper plates everywhere. Maybe someday I can go back to cleaning the house for two days straight because we have a dinner party coming up. Maybe I’ll get a job interview where I might have to put on a blazer and tie and dress shirt to go with the khakis. Maybe someday I’ll see you, face to face, and I can hug you to show you how much I missed being apart from you.
Below: August 9, 2020. "Front of the house: We are attempting to grow squashes on these mulch-covered hills."