Having promised you faithfully last week, Gentle Readers, that I was absolutely not going to stop posting, I have utterly failed this week. My excuse is that my head fell off (metaphorically) when my alarm clock failed on Tuesday morning, and I have been running around after myself like the proverbial chicken ever since.
I have six alarm clocks, by the way, so one failing shouldn’t be a problem. I really like sleep, OK? Not as much as my Year 7 form tutor who was consistently so late to form to take the register every morning that in the end she had to admit that despite two alarm clocks in her room, one on the stairs, one in the kitchen and a regular phone call from our head of year, she probably wasn’t ever going to make it in time. Bless her. She took up with one of the Science teachers in the end, and I’d like to think it was love, but also I’m a cynic so it was probably so someone else would be there to get her out of bed and to their mutual work on time. I admire the moxie.
Anyway, how are we all coping in lockdown? General reports seem to read along the lines of ‘peaks and troughs’ which seems about right. Good days and bad days.
Yesterday, The Dream Team and I realised we’d been quarantining for six weeks, as we began on March 16th…
SIX WEEKS. How things have changed. No more nipping to the shop at lunchtime. No more coffees in coffee shops with friends. No more gathering in the park on weekends, despite this beautiful and glorious weather. It’s astonishing.
I’ve grown used to working from home. I’ve grown used to all my work taking place over video calls. I’ve grown used to staying at home. I’ve even grown used to not seeing those I love.
But I will never – and I mean NEVER – get used to not being able to get a Click & Collect slot at my convenience.