Day 7 Lockdown. Holiday feels.

Made it through week 1. Could sleep for England. Super tired and feel like been on the razzle-dazzle. Must be the biscuits. Or beer. Or tea. Or cheese. Eating so much could well be a new species of whale when I emerge from this (on the plus the pantry will have been thoroughly cleaned out). Remarks about zoonotic transfer are no longer lost on me.

Glorious sunshine but the kitchen robot (Spawn of Satan) tells me it's going to rain. So naturally, hang out linen in hope. It rains. Have a running joke with weather team at work that it rains every time I take any leave. Even at short notice. Every. Single.Time. Last year one of the forecasters binned off all the hi-tech gadgets and just asked when I'd booked leave. Best not be off still on St. Swithins day or we'll all be buggered for 40 days.

Hit up the kitchen for breakfast. Cupboards are prepared for Armageddon as standard but must remember to label the flour. Yorkshire pud tonight was some claggy, sodden heap that was slimy and inedible. Little Lodger said she'd try it but I couldn't inflict that on anyone. Could probably use it as polyfila. The banana loaf I made and forgot to freeze is not ok. It's clearly had a party and invited the wrong friends. Feel guilty at waste but fed the good bits to the birds. Bill Oddie eat your heart out.

Work, work, work, work, work was slow, slow, slow, slow, slow today. Seem to have lost all IT skills over the weekend and straightforward task takes eons to start (because I kept looking at the wrong page). Compensate by rescheduling training for new teammates on another system that is zero intuitive. That way we can all bitch about it together.

Toasties! Totally toasty licious for lunch and reminds me of the lunches I had with Mum in school holidays. Look back through rose-tinted glasses and realise I may have been bored but I could leave the house (and the economy wasn't entirely in tatters except for the ERM at the time).

Little Lodger joins me in lounge for her new workout regime. First 20 minutes spent working out......how to link telly to phone. Rest of workout seems to involve swinging books about in a bag (I've been doing that for years), planks and squats - thank god no burpees. Provide moral support. Try 20 squats and almost shatter knees.

Headache starts in time for the 5.30 wave. Only two of us but neighbour tells me more about her life and we exchange news on supermarkets and flour. Value these moments and after a bitingly cold walk to clear head, pop my number under her doormat...just in case.

News is depressing - Corona on the rise, deaths on the rise. Discuss with friends how we got into this state and how a virus can wipe out most of the worlds economy. Discuss how people do all these amazing things online - but frankly, glued to a screen all day and can't be arsed. One friend wants to sit in a dark cupboard and I explain mine are full......

Absent-mindedly eat all the potatoes skin crisps I baked. There goes the thrifty. Watch Batwoman to escape. Dark themes but that's ok as there's a cape and a butler.

Am invited to join a book group and Little Lodger and I plan to go to the beach as much as we can when restrictions lift. However, Little Lodger mentions not convinced we have nice beaches cos she went to Kings Lynn once ....

Retreat to bed with cocoa and cat.