Corona Journal, 5 April: Day 21
9:30am The doorbell is ringing! Who the hell is that?
9:32am It was the postman! But it’s SUNDAY! Uncle Vernon will be livid.
9:34am Then again, what are days of the week? What is time? Flatmate and I are both furloughed and boyfriend doesn’t work Mon-Fri; for him, this weekend is only differentiated from weekdays because he’s working 12 hours rather than the usual 9.
9:35am Open my parcel. Mum has sent me some of my old Italian and French books from home so that I can plan lessons – what an angel. She’s also included a couple of mini Easter eggs and a lollypop. God, mum, I’m not a baby.
9:45am Forgot lollypops were this delicious.
10am Up and about, making coffee, dancing round the kitchen to my Isolation Nation playlist. I made it as a joke but there are some real bangers on here. Who knew that ‘Pandemic Tunes’ would be a good theme for a playlist?


11am As usual, have made a To Do list and as usual, am ignoring it. Instead, I am perched precariously on the window ledge, reading in the sun.

1pm Right, that’s it, it’s sunny and I want a BLOODY Aperol Spritz. Even better would be an Aperini Spritz, the knockoff Aperol you can get from Aldi that tastes exactly the same. Armed with a podcast and a rucksack, I set off for Aldi.
1:15pm Don’t even mind queuing in the sun. Have a bit of banter with the bouncers. Just like a night out!
1:20pm Man behind me in the queue is very concerned that I don’t have any gloves. I tell him it’s ok, I’ll only touch what I’ll take home. It’s not me that’s the problem, he maintains, and lowers his voice. It’s everyone else. He insists I take a pair of his plastic-y disposable gloves. As he produces them from his pocket, several more fall out and fly away down the street and I make to run after them – don’t bother, he tells me. I have so, so many.
1:30pm In Aldi. Wearing the gloves in case I bump into the man from the queue but they are making my hands sweat like never before. Eurgh.
1:40pm I much prefer pandemic Aldi to normal Aldi. What a calm, almost meditative experience. Ommmm. Zen.
1:45pm No ARSEING Aperini.
2pm Stop at Sainsbury’s for the expensive, branded stuff. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
2:15pm Think about stopping by Boots for some hair dye but decide against it. It’s not essential. Yet.
6pm Lesson planning for Tuesday, which is forcing me to revise the future tense. My Italian has (embarrassingly) really benefitted from these past few weeks in lockdown. Going to make the older boy (hereafter referred to as K) translate all of Gli Sporcelli (The Twits) back into English chapter by chapter.

8pm The Queen is on TV! Settle down with a G&T to see what she has to say. Feel like a British stereotype. Reminds me of when I was a teacher in Austria and I convinced a class of 16-year-olds that all British people have a picture of the Queen next to their bed and the last thing they do before they sleep is wish her a goodnight. They were worryingly easy to convince.
