The great thing about being home in quarantine is you have time to clean your drawers.

Just kidding.

I can’t close any of my drawers anymore because they are stuffed. So I tried to go through them, but gave up.

Not because I’m lazy, though I am.

Because I realized I am looking at my life.

My drawers are my own personal Smithsonian.

And I bet mine look like yours, only messier.

For example, I have thongs in my underwear drawer.

All of them, about 30 years old.

What was I thinking?

Bungee cords are not panties.

I never wear them, now that I have returned to sanity.

But can I throw them away?


They cost a fortune.

And they tell a story.

Thongs, never worn.

And I have a bra drawer stuffed with ancient bras, but only one that’s wearable.

I used to call it my Good Bra, but I can’t anymore, since its cups dimple in the middle, like little frowns.

And now that I’m home, I’m not bothering with a bra anymore. I have tank tops that supposedly have a bra built in, which offers no support. It’s just permission to go without a bra when the FedEx guy knocks.

See, I’m wearing a bra tank. Or a tank bra. Does it really matter?

He takes a look, throws up, and leaves.

My pajama drawer doesn’t close because it has flannel nightgowns, which I will never part with even though they take up so much space.

Who doesn’t love a great flannel nightgown?

I only wear one of them but I’m not getting rid of the others. They reek of coziness, safety, and security.

They meet my emotional needs.

I also have a nightshirt that says “I Sleep With Dogs”, with a matching pillowcase that says “I Sleep With Dogs.”

Get the idea?

I have three drawers full of T-shirts. None of the drawers close, so I leave them open. Once, the cat got behind the drawer and emerged from the T-shirts, terrifying Francesca and me.

If you can’t find your cat in your drawer, you need to clean.

You know that expression “Been there, Done that, Got the T-shirt”?

It’s me.

I leave no T-shirt behind.

I have my T-shirt from Lower Merion Girls’ Tennis Team, which reads “Net Profit” on the back.


Why not?

Also, I thought of the slogan.

So it’s a vintage T-shirt, and I myself am authentically vintage.

I have a T-shirt from Penn Crew that has an oar, since I was a member of Penn’s first women crew.

It was the last time I was physically active.

There are T-shirts from concerts, and I’ve only been to concerts of two bands.

I have three Steely Dan T-shirts from three separate concerts. And now that we have lost Walter Becker, I wear them in his honor.

I’ve also been to Rolling Stones concerts, and every middle-aged woman needs a tongue-out T-shirt.

I have approximately 12 Eagles T-shirts, three from the Super Bowl victory. I still can’t believe we won the Super Bowl. I remember watching Bradley Cooper in the skybox, raising his arms and saying, “We did it!”

I swear to God he said it at the same moment I did, which is like a simultaneous orgasm for Eagles fans.

Speaking of that, I have an array of Bradley Cooper T-shirts, which were gifts. You know you have great friends when they indulge your sexual fantasies.

Wait, that came out wrong.

My favorite one says “Mrs. Bradley Cooper.”

For him I would change my last name and my first name.

And then I have T-shirts from bookstores, which I wear proudly. One from Mysterious Galaxy in San Diego says “EAT. SLEEP. READ.”

Another, from Murder by the Book in Houston is actually made for the pandemic. It says: “STAY HOME, STAY SAFE, READ GOOD BOOKS!”


And that’s not even my only pandemic T-shirt.

My best is from the Philadelphia Fire Department, which I bought to support them. The front reads Social Distancing Works, and on the back is a caution sign that says:


Unless you’re Bradley.

Look for Lisa and Francesca’s humor collection, “I See Life Through Rosé-Colored Glasses,” and Lisa’s novel, “Someone Knows,” in stores now. Also look for Francesca’s debut novel, “Ghosts of Harvard,” on sale now.