A story of everything I did not do in the last seven days.
12/04/2020 Easter Sunday
I cannot remember the last time we did not go away at Easter, so I am a bit all over the place today.
We are living in undeniably interesting times. So why is everybody so desperately bored?
13/04/2020 Easter Monday
Every week I discover that I am living yet another lockdown cliché.
This week the theme is streamlining, and letting go. I have taken an obscene amount of pleasure in unsubscribing from numerous services, offers, and just about everything that lands in my inbox. The realisation that ‘I don’t need this in my life’ is a true celebration each time.
EastEnders is being rationed like toilet paper was a few weeks ago, and the worst thing is that it is going to run out altogether unless the world goes back to full throttle soon. In the meantime I pour myself a glass of good red and relish the experience to the very last drop of every Duff Duff on Mondays and Tuesdays.
In an even bigger blow to my viewing habits, tonight Holby City showed the last episode for the time being, possibly until July. Last vestiges of normality are being snatched from under my feet. I know that in the great scheme of things the fact that my soap operas are no longer available is totally unimportant, and being put out by it is pathetic. I always suspected that my shallowness ran deep, now I have proof. There is more.
My grey roots are now showing clearly, whatever the lighting conditions. I try to avoid small confined places with mirrors, but it’s not an entirely fool proof strategy.
Getting up around 9.30 has become the norm. Getting dressed by midday is the current measure of self-discipline. Meal times have mostly disappeared, replaced by leisurely grazing, but we did manage a sit-down Sunday roast, albeit on a Monday, the other week.
I have always been a competitive level hot beverages drinker, but the last few weeks have seen my personal best go through the roof. Today I did not allow the kettle to rest until I’d consumed 5 coffees and 7 black teas, so yeah, I’ve got skills.
My workload pattern has established itself more clearly now. I average between two and three hours paid work a day, and I am beginning to miss being in full time gainful employment. This is both surprising and worrying.
Surprising, because I thought it would take many months before I began to miss being verbally abused by drunken clients.
Worrying, because that might mean that retirement, something I had been fantasising about a lot recently, might not be all it’s cracked up to be.
I pop into my husband’s company HQ, aka the master bedroom.
– Oh, man, John won’t leave me alone today. He keeps sending me emails.
– Who is John?
– A client. One of the project managers, he keeps asking me questions.
– Well, at least this way you don’t feel lonely. Loneliness kills the same number of people as smoking 13 cigarettes a day.
Husband escorts me to the door and closes it firmly behind me.
We were just told that lockdown is to continue for at least three more weeks. For the time being, I am staring blankly at this piece of news, no coherent thoughts forming. Anyway, time to get ready for the weekly cheer for the NHS at the bottom of the driveway, so I will think about this later.
Unexpected triumph at 10.30 pm tonight! After being rudely rejected by Ocado (‘you are not on the priority access list’), I never gave up searching for alternative food delivery services. Iceland was very low down on my list, but today all this has changed, all is forgiven. They have delivery slots this Sunday morning! I rushed through their online store, throwing random items in, hardly believing my luck, and yes! Success! I am excitedly awaiting a haphazard selection of food items from the shop I used to boycott in earnest on the basis of their salt and sugar content.
The novelty of it all, if ever there was any, has worn off. Boredom and frustration are seeping through, no matter how hard we try to insulate against them.
I have walked every inch of Crystal Palace Park many times over. I know the location of every sweet wrapper, every beer can, every bag of dog poo left on the grass. For a brief moment today I considered making a map of the park with all these items in it, but then I remembered I can’t even read a map, never mind drawing one.
High-brow cultural pursuits I used to pride myself on have ceased. Amelia and I watched all five Die Hard films this week and I loved every single one of them all over again. I highly recommend them as a guilt-free lockdown activity. Guilt-free because they are cinema classics, right?
Alcohol consumption has increased slightly. It remains within government guidelines for now, but what with the roots, the EastEnders, and Holby City situation, I am not ruling anything out going forward.
The cleaner will be the very first person we invite back in after lockdown. Our own efforts remain scant and unimpressive, but I am mesmerised by what Lidl’s W5 Limescale and Grime Remover can do to a bath tap.