Temptation, thy name is LEGO. Just when I thought it was safe to start thinking about something other than little plastic bricks, like seeing friends again and carefully frolicking (is that a thing?) in the warmer weather, you came out with your new Space Shuttle Discovery and accompanying Hubble telescope.

I thought to myself, because there’s still no one else around, I need help. There must be a pandemic hotline to call. Or a book. I’ve gone through several Zoom addiction-related publications – Zoom Nation; Zoom or Die; and Bang, Zoom, to the Moon Alice.

Then I had an epiphany (the 78th one in the last 14 months according to the list I’ve been keeping). I’ll buy the set and put it in the back of a closet, behind things I never use, like the 23 boxes of Lysol wipes the CDC now says we never really needed for wiping down our mail (so I won’t bother with the tax statement i just received that was postmarked January 29).

It will be just as if I had purchased an on-sale Christmas present early. Of course I’ve never actually purchased a Christmas present, but I’ve heard stories.

So I did it. I ventured to the LEGO store, for my first in-person purchase of a set, where I had to embarrassingly admit that I was not a member of their VIP club, embarrassing only there, not in the real world, where the opposite is true.

So now I’m staring at the box, and it’s staring back, all 2354 pieces of it. Do I have the will power to stick to my plan? Tune in tomorrow.