Today is best summed up thusly.
I spent nearly ten minutes fighting the lid off a tin of paint only to find, when I did get the lid off, that the paint I could feel was in there had set at the bottom of it.
I think that sums up most people’s twenty-sixth day of lockdown. A day in which shopping slots have appeared and disappeared on the Sainsbury’s website like that thermal image of Bigfoot on the telebox the other day.
A day in which our next door neighbours have bought a trampoline for the garden and had to unsocial distance from their family to put it together.
A day in which I washed Peppa’s cat fountain and, for some reason, managed to tip all the water down me and not into the sink.
It’s that kind of day, is day twenty-six.
The kind of day when you only tangentially have any sort of grip on reality. A day when you look at your phone and think a) what a sound investment getting a brand new phone mere weeks before this shit kicked off really was – that unlimited data plan is paying dividends now I’m attached to home wifi for 24 hours a day, maybe I’ll go on mobile data one day just for fun and b) you have no idea when you last charged it but it’s currently at 55% because you’re barely using it.
That kind of day.
The dry paint in a can, t-shirt covered in cat water kind of day.