The Diary of a Nobody in lockdown from hell
WOMEN are drinking more under lockdown. I bet they are. According to research from the University of South Florida, the female of the species has been knocking it back to cope with the “psychological distress” of having children at home. No doubt the presence of their lord and master is also adding its own particular frisson.The wonder of it is that we’re not all semi-functioning alcoholics after four months of this. Here, for many women, is an average day. Wake at 4am to crashing sounds coming from the kitchen. This signals the return of the teenager from last night’s illegal rave. As usual, in an attempt to sneak in without making a sound, he has forgotten that the cat basket is right next to the back door. Enraged mewling fills the air as the cat fights back. You try and completely fail to get back to sleep. Meanwhile your other half snores for Britain.
Get up at 6am for some your time before the rest of the house awakes. Come downstairs to find the teenager has used every pan in the kitchen to make an impromptu breakfast as well as using the last of the milk that you’d wanted in your cup of tea.
Sit down in despair at the kitchen table, only to be confronted with your seven-year-old’s maths homework, which you have no more chance of helping with than you have of flying unaided to the moon. Head to the shower and discover there’s no hot water. And your internet’s gone down, too.
Break up massive fight between the seven-year-old and the teenager as you make them breakfast. The seven-year-old will eat only sugary breakfast cereal – with no milk – and will thus have a massive mid-morning sugar rush while you are trying to do some work, while in the four hours since his midnight feast, the teenager has turned vegan and is complaining bitterly about the presence of eggs on the table. Your significant other, meanwhile, is so absorbed in his newspaper he doesn’t even notice the row raging about his ears. Finally get your internet up and running again by 11am, by which time you’ve missed two crucial Zoom meetings. Begin to panic about your job. When you finally do manage to tune in, you suddenly remember you’ve forgotten to curate your backdrop and instead of the work-related flow charts you meant to display, there’s an extremely angry cat, a pile of unwashed cereal bowls, and a gossip magazine that you were reading while waiting for the internet to restart. Your life partner, meanwhile, is nowhere to be seen as he’s an
LAST week I said that Paul McCartney duetted with Michael Jackson on Ebony and Ivory: it was of course Stevie Wonder. Many thanks to everyone who pointed it out.
essential worker and has thus not been confined to barracks for the past four months. In the corner of your eye you see the washing machine has started to leak out all over the kitchen floor.
Haul both seven-year-old and teenager away from their computers and headsets for lunch. The sevenyear-old will only eat more cereal while the teenager turns down the cheese he demanded you bought yesterday and binges on crisps (“They’re OK for vegans, mum.”) You vaguely remember that once upon a time you had a career. And a life. Narrowly avoid punching your first, your last and your everything when he comes through the door at 6pm and starts whingeing about work. Bung yet another frozen pizza in the oven before remembering that it’s got cheese on it and the vegan teenager will complain.
Stealthily make your way across the room to the fridge because, and good lord knows you’ve earned it, there’s a bottle of wine in the door of the fridge. Discover the teenager has drunk it.Trip over the cat.
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THE nation’s comedians are bemoaning the fact that they are having to do gigs at drive-ins, rather than comedy venues. Apparently they can’t hear the laughter. But if what passes for comedy on BBC Radio 4 at the moment is any indicator, that’s the new normal. Having a laugh? I wish.