The pre-Coronavirus Diaries, continued
Tuesday/ cont’d
Download and watch Salt, for perhaps the third time. I consider it to be one of Angelina’s finest works. My flatmate elects to stay in his room.
Given that the government advice precludes meeting together, church is now off for the foreseeable. Preliminary plans are made to begin filming and editing a video-based online church service.
Wednesday/Thursday
I have very little recollection of these days. Video editing was involved.
Friday
I do remember having an Empire Biscuit on Friday, so some of life’s rhythms are still intact.
I make various visits to various supermarkets. The food items-shopper ratio is gradually decreasing.
Where are all the stockpilers putting all their stuff? Surely they’ve run out of space by now?
Sister is in touch on WhatsApp. She raises the thorny question of what would happen if the Queen passes on in the middle of all this. What will we do? Will all the meticulous planning be for naught?
“I’m sending turmeric to the Palace,” she affirms.
“Make sure you keep enough back for yourself,” I remind her. It’s easy to overlook one’s personal needs in times of crisis like this.
“I have 25kg” she replies.
Saturday
More video editing. I watch “We were soldiers” with my flatmate. He cooks a roast chicken for the occasion.
Sunday
First online church service passes off well. It’s a gorgeous sunny day. I spend the afternoon walking in Holyrood Park, along with hundreds of other people. It proves quite difficult to maintain a 2m bubble without appearing to be offensive.
Monday
I stay at home and join a series of four online meetings, which is a surprisingly exhausting pursuit, given the lack of physical movement involved.
Having suddenly remembered that all UK McDonalds restaurants were closing tonight “by 8pm” (nothing like a vaguely-communicated deadline to ensure some McDonalds panic buying), I nip out between two meetings to pick up some Chicken Selects for the last time for goodness-knows-how-long. (Four hours, as it transpired).
I join an epic drive-thru queue. By the time I reach the order point, with the help of Nicola’s advice on the matter via WhatsApp, I realise I need to make the most of it, and so order a milkshake AND a McFlurry.
However, the “ice cream” machine is being cleaned. So no milkshakes or McFlurrys available. I settle for the a 3-Selects meal.
Make it back narrowly in time for the next meeting. Switch my camera off for the first part so as not to make everyone jealous while I scoff McDonalds.
Realise afterwards I had missed a solitary fry, which is lurking in the corner of the cardboard container.
Is this in fact the correct singular spelling of fries? I have never before had occasion to refer to one on its own. Today’s fries were perhaps the limpest and most disappointing I’ve had from McD’s in recent years. And so the solitary lonely fry, now stone cold, having not been the warmest to begin with, is not an appetising prospect.
I optimistically throw it in the food recycling.
Two meetings later, I head back for my belated McFlurry. Join the drive thru queue again. Still no “ice cream” products available. I order another 3 Chicken Selects.
Still hungry. Maybe I’ll crack open some tuna tonight.