Apr 3

Apr 3 Lockdown in Paris : Day Eighteen

Friday 3 April

10h:30 My brain didn’t wake me up at ten past the hour because it knows I’m on to it. Such a contrary device isn’t it, a brain. Just when you think you’ve got it figured out it wakes you up at 10h25.

10h45 : Spent my porridge time just daydreaming about how I’m going to wash my hair later. Friday celebration ahoy. Also it’s for the benefit of others, since it’s quiz night tonight and I don’t want to make people so queasy they forget all their general knowledge.

11h : Prince of Thieves for the next 2.5 hours. The thing about films is, they gift you with oblivion. Like sleep. You can just - stop - for a bit. (So no wonder they’re addictive.) I can’t wait to hear Kev say This is English courage with his raging American accent. Bliss.

11h20 : Realise that my current hairstyle is exactly that of Guy of Gisbourne. It’s like I went into the hairdresser with the picture below and said - this is what I‘m going for. I mean it’s uncanny.

13h28 : Movie over. We’re going to watch Hook on Monday. So the time has come to try and do something about my Guy of Gisbourne Do. I’ve decided to make this virtually impossible by not using shampoo or conditioner. So I’ll still probably look like Guy, just on his annual wash day. This fairly counter-intuitive method also means you burn about 500 calories in the shower, because you spend the whole time scrubbing your head trying to get it to part with grease without chemical intervention. All while looking like that girl from The Ring. You may guess that I have been here before. Oh many, many times. But never with weeks of zero social contact ahead of me. If you’re not going to put shampoo on your head for 6 weeks, do it when no-one has to see it, amiright?

13h50 : I have to say that the leek and potato soup is really very good. If five or more people ask for the recipe in the comments below I shall happily share it. Don’t want to bore you unnecessarily and lord knows I’m not a food blogger.

14h15 : I’ve been meaning to hoover for about three days so now seemed about the right time to do it. Then I went with the momentum and tidied up and cleaned the “bathroom” and all sorts. Steady on. In case you’re curious about the state of my “Barnet of Gisbourne”, it’s a damn sight better than it was. I’m lucky in that my hair is curly so it’s normal for me to look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards and call it a style. Think less Guy more...Dances with Wolves. But with the face of Guy of Gisbourne, if I’m realistic.

15h : Revisited the Tudor times for a bit with a cup of tea. Dropped straight into the middle of the peasant rebellion and literally caught myself thinking Well, sorry, but they’re all going to get it, and it’s not often that Tudor England seems less risky than the present day but here we are. Have to go out to the shop in a bit to buy wine (my most essential of ‘essential supplies’) and that means I have to write out another attestation and that means I’m delaying it as long as possible - I suspect this was a calculated side-effect of making it long and wordy. Macron is counting on there being a shedload of lazy procrastinators and I for one am proud to stand sit amongst them. Finally I am saving lives with my inability to get anything done. I’m in my flipping element, me, I’ve landed.

16h55 : Read that Bill Withers has died. Made sure I took time to read the news article and appreciate the iconic songs he gave us before picking up my phone and texting Gaz-of-Liverpool to say Bill Withers isn’t withers anymore. He immediately replied saying Mate what. I just picked up my phone to text you that. And that right there is why we are friends.

17h19 : Back from Franprix. Highlights include Cadbury’s fingers (that whole lot will go in one sitting but it’s my weekend treat), salt & vinegar crisps (ditto) two cans of Coke Zero (yep) bottle of white (that too), bottle of tonic (ok fine there are a lot of weekend treats). All enjoyed as part of a terrifyingly unbalanced diet.

18h25 : Listened to the new Bond theme song about five times because I’m a bit addicted. I try not to think about how Billie Eilish is 18 because - much like my teenage-dream-bed - it gives me a life perspective I can do without thanks very much.

19h30 : Gin O’Clock.

20h : Clap O’Clock. And as promised, here is a view of the flat from my crows’ nest!