Here’s my day.

Wake up at 11.45. Doze for another hour whilst everyone makes me tea.
Read the papers. Which is basically reading about coronavirus. How many died here, there, everywhere. Looking at graphs. Lots of graphs. London rise vs Manchester. England vs Italy. Spain vs France. Deaths in Zimbabwe against cases in New York. It’s amazing just how many comparisons can be made when NOTHING ELSE IS HAPPENING IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD! Read about dead celebrities. They die differently. More celebrity-ish.
Stagger downstairs-turn on tv. There is no pause between those 2 events.
Watch the longest available series(es) on Netflix until I either fall asleep or someone calls me to eat something.
Return to the tv and fall asleep. Wake up and watch Pretty Woman for the 53rd time this week.
Speak to someone on zoom/FaceTime/WhatsApp. Doesn’t matter who.
Look at all the memes/videos about coronavirus that have arrived in the last 2 hours.
Get ready to take the dog for a walk. Realise I don’t have a dog. Go back to tv.
Eat dinner. Drink booze.
Drink more booze.
Just one more for the road… to the tv.
Go to bed.
Get thrown out of bed. Take shower. Return to bed. Stay.

It’s brilliant. It’s like being an obnoxious teenager again, but without the acne.

If only. The reality is that there is simply not enough time to get all the shit done wot needs doin’. Today’s big event was shopping. Remember when you just breezed into Waitrose, barged your way round, without even a mask on! Remember? Well now its rubber gloves, mask, disinfectant spray, which only a few people get upset about if you get it in their eyes, rubber boots, visor, virus-repellant hat (looks like a beanie but the guy who sold it to me assured me of its magical properties, which is why it cost £234.50). And yelling. DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT 2 METRES LOOKS LIKE?!?!?!?!!!! KEEP AWAY!!!!! YOU’RE TOO CLOSE!!!! FUCK OFFFFFFFFF!!!!

Then you come home, open the door and get straight into the shower, with all your clothes and all your shopping. It’s the only way.

But then, like prisoners, you get 1 hour of each 24 to spend in the exercise yard. And we pound the streets. Well, the heath really, as its softer underfoot. And marvel at the myriad of newfound ways people have of avoiding each other.

And if I get to watch one measly hour of tv each night I’m doing well. Other than the news, that don’t count. And last night we had the veritable treat of the first part of the new Killing Eve series. At least the deaths are more interesting than those on the news. More creative. Artistic.

Remember; bizarre is the new normal.

Happy (some) Day (or other)

A xxxx