Day 25: I thought it would be fun to list things

The photo of my dog is sadly unrelated to this post – I just really wanted to get your attention.

Look, I know what you’ve all been thinking. Hol, it’s great, we love your work, we live for your run-on sentences that are often ten lines long and usually don’t seem to have any real point. But. Where’s the nitty-gritty detail? (and no, we don’t mean further detailings of head-lice misadventures because you’ve already covered that with a depth of description even the most attention-seeking of nits would be uncomfortable with). Where’s the peephole into the actualities of your life? What is it you even actually do with yourself when not fending off family to sit alone in your room and stare wistfully out the window, listening to Carly Rae Jepsen and writing these far-too-long, far-too-invasive…monologues? Is monologues the word? Essay seems too superior, too lofty and structured – diary seems to regular for this sporadic upchuck.

Reader, I hear ya. This one’s for you (and for the anthropologists who will be studying these entries meticulously in 3,000 years – you’re welcome guys). This could have been yesterday. Or the day before. Or it could have been a Tuesday back in 1979 – WHO EVEN KNOWS ANYMORE.

What does your day look like? wb lol xxxx

Holly’s big list chronicling yet another wonderfully interminable day in the positive harem that is quarantine:

Fun fact before we begin: Did you know some people are campaigning to ban the words “bullet points” from modern parlance because they promote violence and invoke pro-gun rhetoric? I shit you not. Apparently, we must all call them dot points now. Yup. OK, ENOUGH ACTUAL FACT – ON TO THE LIST!

  • Steps taken today: 16, 456
  • Current heart rate: 59
  • No. of times my sister and I meticulously planned our ‘Normal People’ binge and then proceeded to not watch Normal People: Five.
  • Calories hopefully burned: 2,721
  • No. of times I broke my Instagram time limit: Four.
  • Slices of sourdough consumed: Four. A very happy, absolutely delightful four.
  • Times I compulsively checked my FitBit AKA my favourite gadget of all time that may/may not be controlling my life: 4,000,000
  • Cups of coffee drank: TWO – I AM A FRIGGING TEMPLE AND LOCKDOWN HAS CHANGED ME.
  • Hours spent chatting on the phone: Also four. Weirdly, four is my favourite number – WHAT IS GOING ON?
  • Glasses of wine consumed: Not four. A respectable uno.
  • No. of arguments I had with middle sister who keeps telling me I smell because I don’t wash my clothes after every use BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT AND MICRO-PLASTICS ARE REAL: Six.
  • No. of times you need to be convinced I don’t smell bad: Less than zero because you know personal hygiene is very important to me and I am absolutely not a gremlin. I’m just a selfless environmentalist who limits the amounts of unguents their body comes into contact with.
  • No. of times my FitBit made me get up and take a walk around the room AND I DID IT: Ten.
  • No. of people who asked if I really fancied Simon Harris: Three
  • Artists listened to: Theo Katzman, New Order, Rostram, Yann Tiersen, The Generationals, Lemoncello.
  • No. of times I used the amount of calories my FitBit told me I’d burned to justify snacks: If I’d to guess, I’d say a respectable 32.
  • No. of articles I read on the worsening situation in direct provision: Two.
  • Glasses of Bailey’s sipped: One.
  • Glasses of Bailey’s spat out and poured back into the bottle because it was Salted Caramel and therefore semen of the devil: One.
  • Podcasts listened to: Grounded (Louis Theroux), Isolating (David O’Doherty AKA my unwitting soulmate), The Daily (New York Times)
  • No. of times I genuinely got stressed because our fridge is bursting with food and I don’t know how we’re going to eat it all and I get very anxious about food waste: Three.
  • No. of times I realised this was a ridiculous concern to have given the pressing issue of world hunger etc: 5,000,000.
  • No. of times I made a show of pretending I was going to bed so my siblings would beg for me to stay and play cards: Back to four.
  • No. of card games I won: None.
  • No. of card games I contested: All. Of. Them.

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