9am Wake up from a dream where I dyed my hair pink with gold glittery highlights. One annoying thing about lockdown that I didn’t expect is that I can no longer tell the difference between genuinely good ideas and isolation fever setting in. Wonder if supermarkets are still selling hair dye.
10am Still in bed. No point in getting up as I have nothing to do. Scroll through all social media accounts. Check Houseparty, an app I have still not got the hang of. Accept all friend requests and suddenly out of nowhere, the face of a friend from my netball team pops up on the screen saying, ‘hello? Annie? Did you mean to call me?’
11am Feel bad for scaring her with the image of me having just woken up. I looked the way you do when you’re mindlessly scrolling and accidentally catch sight of your reflection on the screen – you know the one, with the gormless expression and all the chins. We had a nice chat anyway though, and I finally got out of bed.
12pm If nobody has said this yet, let me be the first one: corona socialising is tiring. I think I’ve had some form of contact with more people during coronavirus than in entire rest of my life. On one hand, it’s lovely. On the other hand, I need a nap after a hard morning of socialising.
2pm Spend the next two hours attempting to work out a new budget. Haven’t heard from Tesco, or from my previous (sigh) employer about the governmental support I am entitled to. Send a letter to landlord, explaining the situation and asking if he can offer any support. Find a way to throw in a mention of the other tenants, one of whom is a junior doctor in A&E. Heh. Try to kick us out now.
2.30pm Have seen on social media that everyone will be clapping at their windows to show support for NHS workers tonight at 8pm. Have a flash of inspiration, but boyfriend isn’t keen.
3pm Haven’t showered yet. This cannot continue. Vow to be up and dressed at a reasonable hour tomorrow.
5.30pm Watching Rishi announce support for self-employed people. Have a good laugh when Robert Peston’s video link falters and he is heard saying, ‘oh shit’ on live TV.
8pm Everyone starts whooping and clapping and making a massive hullabaloo in the street in support of NHS workers. It’s all very sweet, but I am distracted by boyfriend cowering away from the window in embarrassment despite me urging him to come to the window in his scrubs and take a bow.
10pm Watching the news. I know it’s very serious but I do think that reporters interviewing people from over 2m away with microphones on sticks is one of the funniest things I have ever seen.