Self-Isolation Diary: Day 10

Our last night in the Covid Cave! So many emotions.

Excitement, mainly. I can’t WAIT to get my wife back in the marital bed. And I’m not talking about the no-pants dance either, yer dirty tickets.

I’m talking about the fact my wife doesn’t leather me in the happy sack every time she rolls over.

A classy lady.

Thanks to everyone who’s shared their ‘rona experiences in the comments over the last ten days. A reminder that we all experience this thing quite differently. As with life.

Let’s be honest, the absolute worst among us are those who believe that their experience (and theirs alone) are universal, discounting anything that threatens their poorly shaped world view.

‘I’ve never experienced racism towards me so there is no racism.’

That’s cos you’re white and live in a village.

Anyway.

Test and Trace checked in on me again today.

I’ve had the same fella three times now. He’s dead sound and it’s nice to have someone asking after you. Might see if he wants to keep in touch when this is all over.

I’m chomping at the bit for the morning and my freedom. By the time I’ve had my Weetabix I’ll be like one of those Pamplona bulls waiting to jam my horns up the arse of anyone who gets in my way.

‘OPEN THE FRONT DOOR, BABE! I’M READY!’

‘Maybe put your pants on first, luv?’

I’m gonna stroll out the house like Mandela. The neighbours will applaud as I pause at the end of the path, smile and remove my sunglasses. I’ll feel the sun on my face. A free man once more.

The applause will escalate as the camera fades to black and the credits roll.

Bollocks to this - it’s the school run and I’m out of practice.

It’s gonna be fucking carnage.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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