10am Out of bed. Going to Get Stuff Done today.
12pm All I have done so far is reply to all my WhatsApp and Facebook messages, organise presents for grandparents’ birthdays and send out the Corona Journal. So much for getting literally anything done.
1pm Right, ok, fine, let’s see what all this Joe Wicks stuff is about. Convince boyfriend to do today’s P.E. lesson with me. It’s for kids so is going to be a piece of cake, right?
1:02pm Joe Wicks is fit, though, isn’t he?
1:05pm Oh God. I preferred it when he didn’t talk.
1:10pm Hm. This is not as easy as I expected.
1:15pm Please, please make it stop.
1:17pm Oh, lovely, he’s just given a shout out to Gladys who is 70 and doing the workout along with everyone else. Now I feel even worse.
1:20pm ONE ARMED PUSH UPS!? IS THIS A JOKE!? IS GLADYS DOING THIS?
1:30pm I have one question and that is why does Joe Wicks hate me when I’ve done nothing but search him on Google Images?
1:32pm The worst thing is that I still like him. He’s nice and he’s gorgeous and he’s giving up his own time every day to do a good, healthy, wholesome thing for families and children and unfit people like me FOR FREE and even though he could be making loads of money, he’s giving it all to the NHS. He does Friday’s P.E. lesson in fancy dress, for God’s sake. There is literally no reason not to be completely enamoured with this man. Grrrrr.
2pm Post has arrived! Three parcels for me, but I don’t remember ordering anything. Open parcels. A beginner’s Italian book from my grandma (to help with teaching, she’s not throwing shade), The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary from my best pal (absolutely buzzing, this is supposed to be really funny) and some heavy duty pink hair dye from my sister, queen of hair dye who I imagine was in actual physical pain after seeing my poor efforts at pink tips a few weeks ago. Am absolutely thrilled with my little haul.
3pm Aimlessly scrolling Twitter. Loved seeing these two indie publishers throwing shade at each other.
4pm Go for a walk with boyfriend. An unexpected benefit of this blog is that people are reading it and offering advice on different things. So far, this blog has garnered me two bottles of rum, pink hair dye, a possible discount on O2 products (soz Zak from Vodafone) and tips to combat anxiety, amongst other things. Now, an Italian pal has recommended chicory coffee as a delicious decaf alternative for coffee, so I queue up at the Planet Organic with the yummy mummies of Queen’s Park to buy some. Will report back.
5pm Walk to Sainsbury’s for a food shop. Pass Gail’s, which I can’t believe is still open as an ‘essential business’. The good people of Queen’s Park simply cannot be without their sourdough loaves or overpriced coffees! (Will probably go in next week).
5:20pm There are at least two sets of people in Sainsbury’s who seem to be having a karaoke-off, singing with wild abandon at the absolute tops of their lungs. I am being extremely British about it and simply pretending I can’t hear them, even though they can be heard them from opposite ends of the shop, and it’s a big Sainsbury’s.
5:22pm One of them passes me in the alcohol aisle (don’t judge me) and I immediately understand. Today, the twentieth of April, is the day when the youth celebrate marijuana: day four hundred and twenty. I see.
8pm Make moules frites with boyfriend and it is deliciousness incarnate even though it only took all of 15 minutes to ‘cook’.
Can you see from the quality of these photos why I am so keen to get a new phone…?
10pm How adorable; flatmate, boyfriend and I are scattered around the living room, all reading quietly. Boyfriend starts laughing and takes a photo of all of our books together – a book about Apollo 11, some ‘self-help bollocks’ and what is essentially a beer encyclopaedia. All three of us are The Worst and I get duly made fun of. I choose not to mention the other three books I have ordered while in lockdown: How to do Nothing, The Art of Travel and Save the Cat Writes a Novel.