The Diary of Kim Hawley aged 48 and a bit…actually quite a lot.

Lockdown Day 28*

*educated guess

I didn’t post this yesterday so it’s now it’s Day 29* (actual figure if first guess was correct)

Thought I’d made massive miscalculation but have checked and, Oh my Christ, it’s only been 29 days?

Thought I’d have filed for divorce or, at least, charged with GBH if someone had told me I would be spending 29 days inside….with Rock. Turns out we are still married and he is still alive. Hoorah! The children will be delighted.

You see, although he’s my chosen human being, Rock and I often observe that I would be more than happy just talking to the voices in my head and that my family trait of being a happy little loner has only been curtailed by my female urge to have a family and to occasionally communicate.

I have to will myself to mingle with others and do a passable impersonation of a normal human being but I can’t argue with my genes. My dear departed pa was a mystery to our ma as he was perfectly content just to bibble around doing his own thing. He spent his last … 10 years…. eating Pot Noodles, doing Sodoku, tinkering with things that were not working to expected standards and thinking of inventive new passwords for website accounts (we discovered this amusing pastime of his when he passed away and we needed to close his accounts… luckily we found the spreadsheet with the 195 different passwords on it… he is still laughing at us from above I’m sure).

I know you’re laughing up there!

My brother is a seasoned professional; an expert people dodger who has mastered the art to the extent that, if he ever physically appears or merely makes a phone call, his efforts are met with such an over abundance of appreciative rapture that you would think that the messiah had returned from his dusty tomb. People are just happy to see he is still alive. Brother is ecstatic with lockdown as he is now part of normal society and no longer has to concoct activities that he has (or hasn’t) done.

Manchild is 22. He still likes socialising … but only with other 22 year olds, otherwise will happily spend his whole day in his room, in front of his pc, gaming; appearing occasionally to forage for sustenance. Cunningly he has now devised a career that involves him sitting in front of his pc, gaming. Lockdown is not bothering my Manchild.

Basically I’m jealous.

Ok, Rock is self employed and usually out all day “working” (yes, you do know what I mean), Manchild is supposed to be at Uni and youngling, at school; none of these things are happening and so I find myself drowning in people. Every time I turn round there is someone behind me. I’ve tried hiding in the bathroom but eventually I have to free it up as we only have one and, more importantly, eating snacks in the bathroom is just unpalatable. Additionally, as Head Teacher of Home School I do feel duty bound to be present. Not sure why, I’m a terrible teacher. Today I learned youngling learned about prepositions. What exactly is a preposition?

Well let me save you some bother, it doesn’t matter.

No one should even care. Pointless.