Pig and farm report

I had a panic attack at Iverson Spit this morning fogged in slimy and desolate I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to refill my temazapam which I use for sleep and my trazodone which I use for sleep for reasons vague and not so vague (instructions from the government to have two weeks worth of meds stashed away for instance) I was worried that my pharmacy might not have any in stock which has happened this vague and not so vague worry kept the dogs gnawing my feet for a while so there I was at deserted spooky Iverson Spit right before I slipped in the slime and seagull shit and landed on my right buttock which is screaming at me now my steadfast and intrepid son fetched my meds for me this afternoon and thinks he has quarantined me from outside I think the lack of supplies out here have me twitchy now dish soap laundry soap mayonnaise and pickles have disappeared from our shelves along with everything else I read there might be a food shortage in the US in the NYT and I’m certainly witnessing it from here the original epicenter of the virus I took a shower washed all my clothes and my hair and spent the rest of the day in bed binge watching Patrick Melrose and all I really want to do is bake some bread

hello
how are you?