I had to check how long I had been at home under lockdown. It's become a blur. I've actually been here for 36 days, or just over 7 weeks.
I've had some contact with the outside world, mainly when I visited Guys for my monthly checkup. That is now on hold and I am waiting for an appointment date to be provided. Other than that I have ventured downstairs to check my post, put the rubbish out or to collect my food parcel. As a kidney transplant patient it seems that I am eligible for them.
It's actually good to be receiving food parcels. I had been using Sainsbury's to deliver my food, in anticipation of the all the panic buying. Now with limited slots available I am becoming reliant on receiving the basics from Southwark Council. And how welcome they are too!
It's actually quite interesting when someone compiles your shopping for you. My regular purchases are not there but instead I have a chance to try all sorts of different foods that I would never normally buy. Even down to the pineapple that I cut up into cubes earlier and partly froze. I do, however, need to think about what to do with 3 tubs of double cream...
The hunt for work continues. I did originally believe that the market was quite buoyant, but now it seems to be shutting down. Twice I have received news that companies are suspending their hiring. Still, I can live quite cheaply for the time being. I only really need to get out of bed for the potential recruitment agent calls (they aren't calling).
And Johnson, is recuperating at Chequers. How wonderful for him. He's had the most miraculous comeback from death ever seen. After spending a few nights in intensive care he was, upon leaving St Thomas's Hospital, able to quite fluently speak to the nation in his full suited attire. And from his rested abode, he continues to push the line that the UK will complete trade negotiations with the EU by the end of the year. How convenient that he now has an excuse when it all fails. With the price of some foods already rising in value as they are in short supply, let's just think about what might happen if we don't get a deal, shall we?
I am still done with the whole thing to be honest. In a way it is quite nice to escape from it all by means of my isolation, but sooner or later I will have to emerge and face whatever reality greets me, whether it be later in this year, or the next.
And as people continue to die (nearly 13,000 at the last count), I wonder how different this country might be when it is all over. Will we be poorer? Will we be kinder? Will we be more welcoming to our neighbours? Will the High Street never recover? Will Jeff Bezos be even richer? Will I see R any time soon? Will my cheese plant ever grow another leaf?
For the interim, I continue to eat, sleep, hunt for work, watch Netflix, study the digital cloud and Adobe, and peer down at my strange neighbours below in the street.
I've had some contact with the outside world, mainly when I visited Guys for my monthly checkup. That is now on hold and I am waiting for an appointment date to be provided. Other than that I have ventured downstairs to check my post, put the rubbish out or to collect my food parcel. As a kidney transplant patient it seems that I am eligible for them.
It's actually good to be receiving food parcels. I had been using Sainsbury's to deliver my food, in anticipation of the all the panic buying. Now with limited slots available I am becoming reliant on receiving the basics from Southwark Council. And how welcome they are too!
It's actually quite interesting when someone compiles your shopping for you. My regular purchases are not there but instead I have a chance to try all sorts of different foods that I would never normally buy. Even down to the pineapple that I cut up into cubes earlier and partly froze. I do, however, need to think about what to do with 3 tubs of double cream...
The hunt for work continues. I did originally believe that the market was quite buoyant, but now it seems to be shutting down. Twice I have received news that companies are suspending their hiring. Still, I can live quite cheaply for the time being. I only really need to get out of bed for the potential recruitment agent calls (they aren't calling).
And Johnson, is recuperating at Chequers. How wonderful for him. He's had the most miraculous comeback from death ever seen. After spending a few nights in intensive care he was, upon leaving St Thomas's Hospital, able to quite fluently speak to the nation in his full suited attire. And from his rested abode, he continues to push the line that the UK will complete trade negotiations with the EU by the end of the year. How convenient that he now has an excuse when it all fails. With the price of some foods already rising in value as they are in short supply, let's just think about what might happen if we don't get a deal, shall we?
I am still done with the whole thing to be honest. In a way it is quite nice to escape from it all by means of my isolation, but sooner or later I will have to emerge and face whatever reality greets me, whether it be later in this year, or the next.
And as people continue to die (nearly 13,000 at the last count), I wonder how different this country might be when it is all over. Will we be poorer? Will we be kinder? Will we be more welcoming to our neighbours? Will the High Street never recover? Will Jeff Bezos be even richer? Will I see R any time soon? Will my cheese plant ever grow another leaf?
For the interim, I continue to eat, sleep, hunt for work, watch Netflix, study the digital cloud and Adobe, and peer down at my strange neighbours below in the street.
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