Want to kill your spouse yet? Is every little tiny thing about him or her getting on your last nerve? So you’ve got motive, but are you watching too many true crime TV shows for ideas about means and opportunity? Have you ever thought about the many ways (and tools) to commit pre-meditated first-degree murder?

 

Today is my 20th wedding anniversary and since we haven’t spent much time together lately, we’re probably just going to stay in for the night. (If you’re reading this way after March 26, 2020, I should mention we earthlings had a thing called “lockdown” or a “stay at home order” back when people lived in actual houses on planet Earth and had enough organic material in their bodies to contract “viruses”.)

 

But back to today…these are trying times. And most of us have no clue what it’s like to truly sacrifice for the common good. We’ve spent our lives forming selfish habits and enjoying instant gratification. 

 

We are spoiled and now have trouble adapting to the current situation at hand, that is, staying at home. With the rest of the people in your home. And no, you can’t have friends over. And no, you can’t travel anywhere. You have to remain at home, together, for an uncertain period of time. So what do you do to keep the murder and mayhem down to a reasonable level?

 

The thing is, you have to do and think things differently. Don’t do the same old stuff, you’ll bore yourself to death with the monotony and banality and oppressive tedium and other words or phrases that mean doing the same old stuff again and again. Instead, adapt to your situation by thinking outside the box, and make some memories doing it. Then, five years from now, you can say, “Hey, remember when we went streaking through the neighborhood tennis courts and nobody could stop us because of that whole social distancing thing? Bahahahahaaa! Yeah, good times.” Stuff like that.

 

But enough about what’s going on in our household. Let’s Get on with the 5 Ways YOU CAN TOO.

 

Everyone who’s anyone knows about my boyfriend, Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 driver, Valtteri Bottas.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, he’s in lockdown somewhere in Finland. To alleviate my despair, my thoughtful husband gives me things. Valtteri Bottas things. Which produces more love for my spouse because he knows my heart weeps not only because my boyfriend is thousands of miles away from me in isolation, but also because I can’t even get my Formula 1 fix because the season is postponed until further notice, so these items that may or may not contain VB’s DNA (I don’t know, I hear things) elevate my mood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But you see how that works? You might not be able to buy toilet paper online, but you can find a whole new Christmas out there to cheer up your spouse.

 

 

Whenever you feel like choking your beloved out, channel that energy into something more positive. Didn’t you used to laugh together, lo, so many years ago? Go back to that. Share some humor.  For example, we’ve built a mock-up stage and hold a talent show every night competing with each other while also judging each other. We declare a winner after each show (by a coin toss because for some weird reason, there’s always a tie) and celebrate with those Easter-themed lemon crisp Kit Kats – OMG they are SOOOO good!

 

Or maybe you could just meme each other to death on your mobile devices, I mean, whatever flicks your Bic. 

 

 

 

 

They still have landlines and they are all at home right now. Ask them if they have Prince Albert in a can and let me know if that still works these days.

 

 

If none of the above do it for you, then just go to your neighbor’s house. The one you despise. The one with the yappy dog. Or the one who writes all the tickets for the HOA when your garbage can is left out on the driveway for too long. Or the one you’re always issuing HOA violation tickets to because he leaves his garbage cans on the driveway too long.

 

Anyway, pick the one you hate the most and go knock on his door. When he opens it, barge in and hug him. Hug him hard. Tell him, on the verge of tears, that you love him, man. Lick his face. Then lick his countertops. Then tell him you just got back from wherever the viral epicenter of the day is and you just wanted to touch base with him and make sure he was ok. Then ask him if you can use his bathroom and walk in there anyway and close the door. Stay in there about ten minutes and make all kinds of noise, turning faucets and whatnot. Then as you’re walking out, tell him to stay safe and you hope he doesn’t mind you used his toothbrush as you shut his front door, fumbling with the knobs on both sides before sauntering back over to your place.

 

 

Now it can’t all be a keg of chuckles doing stuff together. You do need time apart now and again, and I’m here to tell you that you can simulate this inside the house where you are currently trapped, breathing each other’s claustrophobic air, hearing the squeak of fingers drilling into ears, the off-key whistling, the bolting upright in bed at 3am and getting shaken awake to review every detail of a nightmare and what it could mean, the whining, and… you know, all the other traits you found so endearing when you were dating. 

 

Obviously you can go for a walk outside, but after dark, when that stalker of yours plants him- or herself on your front lawn singing sappy love songs while playing the accordion  until the police arrive, it’s just not safe to go out there. 

 

So I say, buy one of those changing scenery walls (and a big ass DO NOT DISTURB sign), lock yourself up in a room of the house, play the appropriate Spotify playlist of whales or ocean waves or copulating wombats, whatever makes you relax.  Count your breaths until you get to one thousand inhales and nine hundred exhales, make sure there are no more thoughts of homicide, think of three awesome things about your spouse, remember why you married them in the first place, then come out and start crank calling random old people.