#flattenthecurve Episode 3

Day 2 of x cont.

The scene: a contented adult male (me) puts his feet up in front of a roaring log burner. He's tired, but happy.

"Well" I think to myself, as I crack open my second beer (a Porter with a ridiculous 7.3% ABV) "given the circumstances, that's been a reasonably successful end to the week"

Internal voice: er, Andrew

"The kids have been educated, entertained, exercised to the point of exhaustion and have eaten healthy, well-balanced meals"

Internal voice: yeah, but ....

"IT systems are back up and running, I've been of some use in a professional capacity"

Internal voice: Andrew, listen!

"We've made some revisions to the timetable we've set that'll make next week even more successful"

Internal voice: ANDREW!

"None of us have fallen ill ... but .... it feels like I've forgotten something ....."

Internal voice: It's Thursday, you bloody idiot, still one day left to go!

Despite the serious miscalculation in days, today has been a reasonable success. But it has been sunny, and the kids have been able to play out. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

--

Day 3 of x

I am cursed with being a light sleeper. If the kids wake up, it's usually me that hears them. When the wife snores, I can be awake for ages. When sleep is disrupted by drunk people squabbling or random brass band players trumpeting in the street (true story, honest!), it's me that gets up and tells them to shut up (from behind the safety of a closed curtain, of course).

And when a gang of seagulls decide to steal a car in the street, it wakes me up.

That last bit probably needs a bit of explaining.

As I am a light sleeper, I often hear things/think things in the night that my brain tries to make sense of as I drift between wakefulness and sleep. Often my brain is unsuccessful.

So this morning, there was a gang of seagulls being noisy in the street. And there were other birds chirping, singing, tweeting (Instagramming?) and generally being noisy. But instead of putting 2 and 2 together and coming up with a sensible 'ah, small birds unhappy that big birds are being mean' narrative, it came up with a far more elaborate version of events where the seagulls were attempting to break into the neighbours car, set off the car alarm (the little birds being noisy) and then argued amongst themselves as they fled the scene.

To be honest, as I didn't get out of bed to check what had happened, either version of events could theoretically have been true.

I then had a dream about a post-apocalyptic central Newcastle being landscaped and turned into a giant pig farm. The elderly guide I had employed (I have no idea why I needed a guide or where she came from) then discovered an illegal detention centre and we had to break out the inmates using an old telegraph pole as a battering ram.

So yeah, it's been a busy morning so far, and it's only just 7am.