It’s Day 5 of isolation and, thankfully, I am actually quite enjoying it. I’ve settled into a sort of routine; I wake up at 9am, spend an hour in bed reading The Times on my phone, shower, get dressed and have a coffee before proceeding to spend the day alternating between reading, writing, playing on my PS4 or watching a movie. In all honesty it’s actually quite peaceful and makes me feel weirdly nostalgic for this time last year, when we were just entering the third lockdown. The only thing I am finding difficult is not being able to directly communicate with my Mum, despite being in the same house, as she continues to test negative and, as such, has me confined to my room. It’s made me wonder how I’ll ever cope when/if I eventually move out, as I miss her right now and we’re still in the same fucking building. She’s got into a routine of making me cups of tea and leaving them in the windowsill next to the front door so she doesn’t have to pass them to me directly – I have to wear a mask and sanitise my hands when I go downstairs to collect it. Dryly amusing but remarkably sensible, as she always tends to be.
I’ve begun an attempt to put my picture wall back together after they all started falling off, although it’s about as exciting as it sounds and I haven’t gotten very far with it. I have realised, however, that there are quite a few pictures that won’t be going back up. There is a difference, or at least I believe there is, between old friends you’ve drifted or distanced yourself from but still remember fondly and old friends you’ve made an explicit effort to distance yourself from for various negative reasons, and I see no logical reason why the latter group should remain on my wall, even if I do look absolutely stunning in some of the photos. That, along with the fact that the pink-tac I used the first time around keeps pulling the plaster off the walls and leaving giant holes, has actually made the whole process quite tiresome. Alas, I must soldier on and get the pictures back up as Hayley won’t be very happy if she walks into my room once I finish isolating and discovers I’ve pulled most of the plaster off of my walls. I am, quite literally, papering over the cracks.
My New Year’s resolutions have started well; I’m back on the protein meal replacement shakes, I was £100 in profit on the horses yesterday which I put straight into my savings (paid off a bit of my overdraft) rather than spending it, I’m already three chapters into my first book of the year (Empireland by Sathnam Sabghera, absolutely fascinating so far) and I’ve deleted the Snapchat app from my phone and already spent significantly less time on it. I would even go as far as to say I am genuinely excited to get back in the gym once I am out of isolation because, as weird as it sounds, my legs are actually starting to ache from being sat down all day. All things considered, the first 36 hours of 2022 have been remarkably positive and I’m looking forward to cracking on with things once I am COVID free.
I can’t remember who started it but a group chat has appeared for all of us who have been struck down by this dastardly virus and it’s making me chuckle at times. Kiera, for example, announced this morning that her breakfast consisted of two rounds of toast, a chocolate brownie and half of a Cadbury’s Milk Tray. If nothing else, you have to admire the dedication to the cause, the cause of course being diabetes. Unfortunately I have publicly stated that I shall adhere to Dry January, and I am not a man who goes back on his word (unless I absolutely have to or I feel like it), so I will have to wait until February now to get drunk with my friends again, but stupid shit like that makes me remember just how much I love them and I can’t wait for a cheese without wine night at Elia’s once we’re all free.
Anyway, I’m bored now so I’m off to shoot some Nazi zombies. Peace x
