Picture me, packing up my flat for 2 weeks at home for the Christmas holidays. Imagine the excitement in me, that I would see my family for the first time in 2 months in just a few hours. I knew we were in Tier 3 lockdown, so I didn't pack much other than my favourite pyjamas - high necked so as not to show off the tattoo that my parents still hadn't forgiven me for. I'll only need 16 pairs of pants, then I don't have to bother my Mum to use the washing machine. 4 pairs of socks - I'm not going anywhere other than the sofa that will require more but just in case I fancy doing any exercise (optimistic of me). Sports bra (also optimistic of me) and an outfit on the off chance covid disappeared and I could go on a night out (another heavily over-estimated optimism).
Picture me, all jolly, skipping out of my flat and driving off campus for the first time in weeks, giddy in the knowledge that I had 2 weeks of uninterrupted Christmas merriment and drinking ahead of me.
Little did I know...
You catch me today, 7 weeks into my "Christmas holidays". And I can hear the cogs whirring - oh what a lucky b**ch on an extended holiday what a laugh she must be having - NO. Stop it.
The first knock back on my carefully scheduled life was the most obvious, seeing as we are living in a pandemic... yup, I managed to catch coronavirus. From somewhere at home. Starting on...boxing day. Which is purely ironic (in an Alanis Morissette kind of way) because I'd spent the last 4 months working at a school "on the front line" (I hate saying that but more on that soon). So no sooner has the festive period got into full flow and fun was finally had after months of work and b*ll*cks, I'm stuck between my bed and my sofa watching endless hours of Below Deck (my top Netflix recommendation ever it's so so addictive).
So I've obviously called work like hi sorry no I'm not coming into work blah blah which is all fine, and I get a date for when I am safe to go back into work. All is fine and dandy, counting down the days (I'm one of those sad people that loves their job - more on that soon too).
Until, naturally, we go into a THIRD LOCKDOWN and my workplace decide half the staff will now be off work until after February half term.
At this point, I'm thanking all the gods that I am 23, and my parents know that all I really want for Christmas is some underwear and bath products. I am a simple being, that is all I require.
So, what have I done to fill this time? Yes, 7 weeks off means I must have been so productive, started a new hobby, learnt a skill, solved world hunger. Well, let me list my achievements for the world to see:
Completed a 1500 piece jigsaw alone (it took me 10 days but you'll understand when you see the picture).
Did some running (I can just about manage 5k on a good day, on flat ground, if someone comes with me and lies about how far we have gone).
Only fell out with my parents approximately 3 times (a true win).
Read 1 book.
Started this blog.
Yup, that is truly all I can say I've achieved... unless you count averaging 4-6 hours of phone screen time and renovating my Sims 4 house.
I hope that if, like me, you feel like you've not accomplished that much with this weird time we're having, then don't lose hope - honestly writing this I felt totally useless before I began and now I've named 5 things I have done, so have a go, I bet you have achieved more than you think, even if it is that you tidied your room, and managed to go outside for a bit.
My aim is to update this blog a few times a week, with my thoughts and general happenings. If you're at all interested, please subscribe and follow me! I promise not all my posts will be about knickers.