I haven't managed to write for the last few days. I've no fucking idea how, seeing as there's absolutely shit-all to do every day, but stay in the house and watch Peppa Pig.
The first few days of "week 1" weren't too bad actually. The sun was shining and the weather made outside feel like Spring. Sam decided to paint the walls in the garden, and the steps too, so he was out there, music on, cold beer in hand, whilst Nel waltzed around with her ball, decapitating daffodils (I tried to stop her whenever I saw, she's just a maniac) and dancing to tunes.
I managed to do a couple of workouts in the garden, but after the first couple of days have passed, so has my drive. Every day of this lock down, Sam and I have drank. By 4pm, if it's a good day, Sam has usually handed me and gin and tonic. Is it OK just to get pissed for three weeks straight??? Maybe more? Asking for a friend.
So needless to say the first week of quarantine has been stressful. This weekend made me realise that Sam and I had got to that point in lockdown where we'd boozed, for no good reason, on consecutive nights for long enough for the joy to have been taken out of it. I feel like this isolation thing started as a short-term "holiday" from reality, and with that came the idea of cocktail hour, and copious amounts of wine. However, my waistline is already looking like I've been on an all you can drink holiday, and I'm pretty sure it won't do my mental health any favours if we're kept in isolation for a prolonged amount of time. Therefore, the plan from now is that Sundays - Thursdays are to be sober days, so that we have Fridays and Saturdays to look forward to, as we can then reward ourselves with getting drunk together! God that sounds bloody awful doesn't it?! Already we sound like total booze-reliant hounds! However, I take comfort in what I've seen online, and from speaking with friends, that the whole nation are experiencing this confined Hell, much like us....drunk.