Corona Eileen.
Have I lost the plot? Probably.
“I feel a bit depressed about all of this,” I told the Long Suffering Husband.
“I know,” he said, “What can we do to cheer ourselves up?” he asked.
“I’ll write a blog,” I said.
I don’t know why but he’s now rocking in the corner muttering something about badminton and a preferred death.
The government has told us to self isolate but is holding microphone sharing parties for journalists.
Corona Eileen.
There’s a lot going on at the moment that I don’t understand and I hate not understanding.
We are not allowed to go to restaurants but they remain open. Government asks us to work from home but they are having more meetings than ever. We are not meant to allow non essential workmen in the house but no one has defined essential. We are currently renovating our bedroom and bathroom. There have been many unnecessary workmen in our house. Unfortunately, when you’ve already paid the unnecessary becomes necessary.
Corona Eileen.
We popped into the carpet shop to check that their unnecessary workmen would still be coming.
“We’ve had a lot of cancellations,” the man told us. “We ask our fitters to confirm that they haven’t been abroad in the last month, don’t have any symptoms and haven’t been in contact with anyone with symptoms. I told this old man that and he said that if he answered the door and they were clean then he would let them in.”
The LSH and I shared a private smirk about clean workmen.
“The problem is, you can’t tell,” I said.
“You could check their temperature,” he suggested.
“That’s what they did in China but we don’t have a thermal imaging camera.”
“It would be funny if we took their temperature before we let them in.”
I thought for a moment and then realised that I have a rectal thermometer.
That would sort out those unnecessary workmen.
Corona Eileen.
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