10am A pretty bleak day. Although I have been made redundant, I have 2 weeks of notice to work first and the company has a big deadline on Friday so I am still uselessly tapping out money-saving tips for Moscow.
3pm My boyfriend’s brother shows up and finds my guitar in my room. He starts singing One Direction songs. I suggest we go for a walk to get some fresh air and some semblance of exercise.
4pm We walk about 3 miles and my foot hurts more and more the whole time. It starts with an ache and then sharp spikes of pain start to shoot up from the outside edge of my foot, through my ankle and into my calf. Ten minutes from home, I burst into tears and my boyfriend suggests he bring the car round to get me. I sit on a tree stump and cry until he gets there.
4.30pm We get home and I find I’ve got my period. I shout OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE from the bathroom.
5pm Daily Corona briefing. I ask my boyfriend if he wants a rum and coke. He laughs, realises I’m serious, and then says, ‘yes’. He, I and our flatmate huddle round the TV. I imagine this is what our grandparents felt like as they sat round the wireless during the war, waiting for instruction, information and comfort from our illustrious prime minis – Christ, here’s BoJo again.
9pm I see a meme on Instagram called ‘How to cope with isolation boredom based on your star sign’. The recommendation for scorpios is to rewatch both seasons of Killing Eve.
1am I am four episodes into the first season of Killing Eve.