“Insanity is inanity with an ‘s’. These posts will have plenty of both.”
Corona virus means normality hiatus and boredom stupendous! So I’ve taken it upon myself to do my bit for humanity by recording my daily (ish – I’m really terribly busy) musings from West Cork isolation. Expect a plethora of wit as evidenced above and an inundation of time-wasting nonsensicalities as illustrated below. Stay well. Stay educated. Stay off yer bleedin’ phones!! Unless you’re talking to me – please ignore real people for virtual me at all times thank you goodnight x
“I’m just chilling with my puzzles, buttered snacks – bread, cupcake, Mars Bar, croissant, butter – and new handstand-learning timetable. And by handstand timetable I, of course, mean, loosely suggesting to my sister that now would be a good time to practice handstands and – hey, that wall looks like a perfect handstand wall! That wall is waiting to be handstood against. Let’s totally set aside time each day to handstand around/in/on that one by two metres patch of luminous green plasterboard. “
The truth is I’ve been trying to write this for five minutes but a piece of toenail got stuck in my keyboard. I tried to get it out but in so doing instead aided it in its escape from my newly-manicured fingers so that now its rump is lodged under the ‘@’ key – which,… Continue reading Day 7: Self-Care is not a euphemism for hair removal.
Allow me to set the scene. I don’t believe I’ve done that before. What a terrible narrator I am. It is 20:51, I sit alone at my desk in the activewear I’ve been wearing since what feels like 2003 but is really just whatever day I arrived home, hungover – god, remember hangovers?! – to… Continue reading Day 6: Thursdays are for solo candlelit dinners and flirtations with classical music
I find myself looking forward to random people’s morning stories. Hah, call my sleep-deprived but that reads as morning glory to me and I am at the stage of housebound, recycled-air inhalation insanity which makes that veeeeeeeeeery funny. Anyway. Pretending I’m not a nine-year-old boy who’s just had his first erection – I follow one… Continue reading Day Four/Five: The cesspool of social media has me drowning
8.30 am I wake up, groan myself to movement, roll out from under the covers and, heavy from last night’s snacking, heave myself to vertical. A lurch to the toilet and then I am seated at my desk, staring out at the mist, the dank dullness of early morning grey. Time to work. It is… Continue reading Day Three: Am I being bootycalled?
I cannot quite decide if rolling from bed to desk, hopping on a Zoom call unwashed and unbrushed but saved by the mercy of a laptop camera so bad my face is all but obliterated is the best thing that ever happened to me or the beginning of what I always knew would be an… Continue reading Day Two in the Quarantined House