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Sunday 9th January 2022


Why did you have to fuck that bat, mate? Hope it was worth it.
Or eat that pangolin or play that mandolin or break that glass vial at the virus research centre, or whatever the fuck you did.
It’s turned out to be pretty inconvenient for everyone, I have to say.
I wonder if the person who started this knows they started it. Presumably they didn’t die.

My PCR test confirmed what I already knew and so I continued my new life in the prison of my attic, with only all my puppets, my snooker board and all the world’s online media for company. I didn’t feel too bad - just a bit tired, a mild cough, no headache or sore throat any more and I seem to be doing a lot of farts, but all that stuff was true of the pre-Covid me too. And the rest of the household have again tested negative, which means my holiday away from childcare can continue. I actually fancy my chances of getting a chunk of the book written if this remains the case for the rest of the week. But some are warning that it might get worse (whilst others are saying they breezed through with basically no symptoms). So far so good.  
I get to sleep in, I get my meals brought to me, I get to read books and play video games. And I feel even less ill than yesterday. 
I know that I have the people who came up with the vaccines to thank for what is so far a very mild case of this dangerous virus. I can’t imagine that if I got ebola I’d just have a couple of Lemsips and a lie down. But I am not counting my chickens. Maybe things will get worse. 
I read half of Ed Patrick’s “Catch Your Breath” and dipped into Greg Jenner’s Ask A Historian (particularly enjoying his attempt to work out when the first Monday was) and enjoyed both books. I also listened to Laura Lexx’s “Klopp Actually” as she’s the guest on my remote RHLSTP tomorrow.
And the only downsides were feeling a tiny bit tired and slightly lonely. As much as it’s nice to have a break, it’s probably more fun being in the thick of family life, or at least not be shunned. One time I did venture downstairs my son ran at me with his fists flying because I am dangerous and diseased.
I felt guilty that my already overworked wife has to contend with the kids alone (the dog has gone to stay with the inlaws) and tried to work out if it’s better that we all get infected at the same time so I can muck in with stuff or to have Catie and the kids get it later, meaning I will be demoted from holiday maker to maid. 
Ultimately I just hope to get through the week without any serious impact and be able to get back to normalish life as soon as possible.
Just weird to be banished for what is definitely the least debilitating illness of the winter.

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