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  • Writer's pictureSam Avery

Self-Isolation Diary: Day 6


It’s quite nice to enjoy a good cough without worrying you’re coming down with Covid.


The downside obviously being that it IS Covid.


But hey-ho.


I’ve definitely got Covid. That’s confirmed. But what if this frog in my throat is the first sign of something even more sinister? Foreign Accent Syndrome? Ebola?


Nah, it’s definitely smallpox.


And this is why we shouldn’t google symptoms in bed at 3am, right folks?


But I couldn’t sleep last night.


My equally corona-riddled 6 year old son (who’s currently sharing my bed) decided it would be fun to rotate his body throughout the night like the hand on a big clock. Every time he jolted I gently tried to shove him back into position (humming Cher’s ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’) but it was clear this was inevitably heading to only one place.


A violent kick in the bollocks.


Two-footed lunge.


GBH.


A straight red card under normal circumstances. Back-to-your-room, sonny-jim. See-you-in-the-morning-and-no-mistake.


Except there’s no red cards at the moment. So I clutched my tezzers in agony and buggered about on my phone for a bit.


Googling this. Googling that.


*How long can humans survive eating only rich tea biscuits?*


And then I had THE shittest of all dreams where I was stuck in the house and couldn’t leave.


Really, subconscious? You unimaginative prick.



Of ALL the scenarios you could’ve picked to fire through my synapses you chose the EXACT one that I’m living right now. Even one of those naked-on-the-bus-in-front-of-your-ex anxiety dreams would’ve been a better choice. At least I would’ve gone somewhere.


Had a game of ‘Super Mario Chess’ with Ben this afternoon. It’s the same as normal chess except worse. Plus this version is unlikely to feature in an upcoming Netflix series. (‘Donkey Kong’s Gambit’ anyone?)


I had the upper hand until he changed the rules mid-game. So I slightly nudged the board until it tipped off the bed and all the chess pieces fell to a grizzly death.


Game over.


It was definitely an accident though. The same way Tonya Harding ‘accidentally’ hired that hitman to go after Nancy Kerrigan.


And if you’d like more box-fresh topical references of that quality, be sure to tune in tomorrow for the next instalment. (Or join the mailing list below and get each one lovingly delivered to your inbox.)



Back tomorrow...

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