surinenglish

THE MUSIC MAKER

Days and confused

Having spent the last gazillion days indoors, I now feel fully qualified to be able to offer a handy cut-out-and-keep lockdown survival guide thingy. For anyone who hasn't quite got the knack yet, this invaluable source of wisdom should ease you effortlessly through the day.

First, get up. This isn't quite as simple as it sounds if you've stopped working recently; your inner teenager, having lain dormant for years, is now wont to rear his ugly/acne splashed head. "Just ten more minutes," an inner voice will whisper temptingly. Pay no heed, or you'll eventually emerge just as it's time to go back to bed, rendering the rest of these tips eminently pointless.

Having stirred before midday, albeit half-heartedly, be sure to potter about aimlessly. This is crucial. If you stride forth with too greater sense of purpose early doors, after about twenty minutes this false surge of energy will dwindle to nought and you'll pop back to bed "just for ten minutes". See above.

Next, clean your teeth. This sets the tone for the day and will make you feel less guilty about eating the two packets of Jaffa cakes that were supposed to last a fortnight, a bit later on.

Have a Jaffa cake.

Then, turn the computer on. Watch some people singing Nessun Dorma on a balcony somewhere and have another Jaffa cake.

By now, you've broken the back of the day and it's tempting to have a siesta. Resist. Pick up your guitar/paintbrush/camera or whatever and try to create something. Give it twenty minutes but, let's face it, inspiration is a bit thin on the ground. Anyway, it's Jaffa cake time.

Go back to your computer; ignore all invitations for cheese and wine parties on Zoom, whatever that is. You'll thus be able to avoid forty minutes of people you've never met before asking "Can you hear/see me?" leaning in at you, one arm outstretched, sporting what appear to be comedy size noses. Have some cheese and wine all on your lonesome. And a Jaffa cake. Or four.

Next, listen briefly to the news just to reassure yourself that everyone is still very much guessing about everything and that the vaguely random numbers being quoted hither and thither can be interpreted in an either positive or negative light, depending on whether you're a glass half full or glass half empty kind of person. Fill your wine glass, just to emphasise the point - don't bother with the cheese, it was a smokescreen and you know it.

Finally, look at your watch, yawn, clean your teeth and turn in for the night, scratching your tummy. Be sure to take a few Jaffa cakes - you've earned 'em.