We need to talk about Week Two (she’s a mess).

We did it, guys. Week two of “homeschool” is in the books. And reader, it did not go particularly well here. I think the technical terms is . . . shitshow? Or was it a clusterfuck? I don’t know, I’m not a licensed psychiatrist. In the imaginary ensemble sitcom cast each of these quarantine weeks clearly represents, Week Two is the character with a dark side. She’s got a cantankerous attitude and limited impulse control. She’s a blast at parties but can always be counted on to end the night with her head in a toilet bowl, screaming borderline racist things at anyone who tries to help her. She’s the one everyone wants to hang out with when they’re feeling blue or tired or just lazy, because she’s an attentive listener and plays by her own set of rules. But deep down, the rest of the gang is concerned. They check her computer every so often to make sure she hasn’t fallen completely off the deep end. They know how to tiptoe around her. She’s the subject of every “very special episode.”

The gang is worried about you, Week Two. You need to get honest with yourself. Wake up! Look around you.

On the other hand, Week One is the one who has it all together. She’s a dynamo! She’s organized, professional, full of pep and genuine enthusiasm. She is tireless and creative. And while she gets a lot of shit for her generally irritating personality, she can take it and dish it right back out. She’s got a terrific sense of humor and knows how to roll with the punches. Try as you might, you simply cannot hate her. And oh, you tried. Ugh, Week One, with her color-coded schedules and innovative uses for recyclables. With her put-away laundry and clean sheets and nutritious homecooked meals. She was all, “ooh, I’m Week One, we got this guys!” And also, “look at me, I’m Week One, this isn’t nearly as bad as I expected! All it takes is a robust and thoughtfully-paced schedule and the strength of forty Week Ones and $800 worth of Prime delivery science kits and gardening kits and STEM-certified educational board games! I’m going to go take a shower while my children quietly draw along with Mo Willems without any complaints or technical difficulties!” What a butthead.

Week One had her 5-episode arc during which she enjoyed what amounted to a highly productive manic episode. I hope she appreciated all those damn showers, showering like a show-off.

I’ll be honest, it’s been a lot less fun to watch Week Two’s subplot. Exhausted physically, emotionally, and creatively, she loped in and flopped herself down on the couch. She turned on the news and pulled a fuzzy blanket up over her eyes. Then she turned off the news. Then she turned on a marathon of “90 Day Fiance” but she kept reading the news on her phone anyway and having to pause and rewind which is extra ridiculous because you could watch that show blindfolded with earplugs in and still be considered intellectually incapacitated for struggling to follow. Because of her, the quarantine liquor stash is depleting at a distressingly rapid clip. She dutifully rewrites the daily schedule every night, but by 10:30AM she can no longer muster up a reason to follow it. She’s all, “go play, playing is an important part of your homeschool education and mommy is busy reviewing a series of lackluster quarantine memes.” Also, “remember last week when you painted rocks? Go . . . uh . . . go do that again. Or whatever, count rocks. Just go away and play with rocks or you lose dessert after dinner.” Her kids are ornery and uncooperative, unsurprisingly. She wakes up a little hungover and eats carbs like who does she even think she is all of a sudden? One time, she spent waaaaaay too long considering an Instagram ad for blue hair dye. She’s a real bummer, and I think I’d prefer to skip any of her forthcoming episodes.

The problem is, we can’t. I can’t. You see, as I said, this is an ensemble cast. Every gang needs a downer. And in the interest of taking a break from this metaphor, it seems like not having a week like this would indicate some sort of mental derangement. Shit is real. Particularly in New York, but also everywhere for all of humanity. People are dying. People are sick. Loved ones are separated indefinitely. We can’t predict how this will affect us and our children in the long run. No one has a “normal” routine, and no one has any idea how long we’re going to need to continue to adjust and adapt. So, I think it’s important to let Week Two take the spotlight from time to time, to get her out of our systems. Let her drink her Montinis (Monday martinis y’all). Let her lie on her bed in her robe half-asleep with an iPad on her face. Let her eat aaaaalllllllll the noodles. Just leave her to her miserable glory and try to take some dark pleasure in the self-indulgence.

There’s some good news in all this, too: we haven’t even been introduced to week three yet. Maybe she’s the zany one! Maybe she’s the studious one or the anxious one or the diva or even the sexy one. Maybe week three is the voice of reason who holds everyone together. Who knows what sort of hijinks she’ll get up to? Find out all the answers by tuning in on Monday to an all new episode of “Family!: The family that lives together . . . lives together.”

Ultimately, dear reader, the point is this: I’ve been watching a lot of old reruns lately and I cannot recommend it more highly.