You know you’re an adult in 2020 when Covid-19 is among us, it’s the END OF THE WORLD and you’ve been tasked with doing your bit (and trying not to get dramatic about it).
In order to stop the spread of this deadly virus and save lives, the majority of us have spent this year in Lockdown – aka the Hunger Games trial my generation have been training for (staying indoors, taking naps and watching Netflix = challenge accepted).
Initially, I had big and creative plans for lockdown. The kitchen was to be transformed into ‘The Restaurant’ (where my boyfriend would call the booking line to reserve the table in his own kitchen, only to be put through to an unhepful sales calls centre – all voiced by me).
The cellar was to play the role of nightclub and renamed ‘The Basement’ (where I’d charge an entry fee of £10 for the two entrants – my boyfriend [who did not approve of the charge] and the dog [who couldn’t be bothered to move from the sofa]).
Finally, the bathroom was to become ‘The Spa’ (where I’d close the windows, turn the shower on high-heat and spray Vicks to create a steam room aroma).
The reality has been somewhat different. The kitchen has seen me play oven-glove tug of war with the dog during a work call. The nightclub has been boycotted in favour of bed at 9pm. The steam room experience resulted in mould. Great.
To add to the fun of Quarantine, Instagram is the gift that keeps on giving – just when you thought you were in a global pandemic, influencers have rebranded it a global ‘gift of time’ retreat.
Apparently I’m supposed to have taken up a hobby I’ve always dreamed of, learned to play an instrument or reinvented myself as an organic banana bread maker.
The only hobby I’ve taken up in the past eight weeks is the ‘desperately trying to turn off the Video function on Microsoft teams so colleagues don’t see me in pyjamas at 3pm (the same attire as yesterday, the day before and since lockdown began)’.
There’s barely time between endless Zoom pub quizzes and virtual birthday parties for friends’ pet Unicorns to have a glass of water, let alone learn a musical instrument.
But however your lockdown time is spent, and whoever you’re spending it with, here’s a slogan of advice to help get you through it: stay alert for an opportunity to nap, control the mould that has now appeared in the bathroom and please save me some of that annoyingly delicious banana bread.