1. Start of lockdown
Wake at 6am, gently stirred into life by natural sunlight and motivated to spend another day changing the world.
The dog wakes me by jumping on me to demand his breakfast as I’ve slept in.
2. Start of lockdown
Before getting up, take a moment of gratitude for my many blessings and state my intentions for the day ahead.
Scroll through crap on my phone until the last possible minute and attend the first meeting of the day in bed, checking for the thousandth time that I haven’t accidentally left my camera on.
3. Start of lockdown
Slide gracefully out of bed and straight into a sun salutation pose, performing a series of limber stretches before heading out for an early jog and smiling knowingly at the other smug 'morning people'.
Get straight into my gym kit and admit at 7pm that exercise was never going to happen. Reach for a bottle of wine.
4. Start of lockdown
Enjoy a cup of camomile tea or – if I’m lucky enough to find any in Lidl – a nice, revitalising hot water with freshly sliced lemon.
Coffee. Three cups minimum. Then remember that humans need water to function and drink a thimbleful, before starting on the coffee again.
5. Start of lockdown
Make a real effort to ‘get ready’ just like I would on a normal working day. After all, if you look good on the outside, you feel better on the inside (or is it the other way around)
Look like a total minger until lunchtime when I resentfully get dressed and pull my hair into a pitiful example of a ‘top knot’ that gives me a look of Ena Sharples
6. Start of lockdown
Lovingly prepare that evening’s meal in my slow cooker, safe in the knowledge that as I work, a wholesome curry/chilli/stew will cook itself and infuse my home with delicious aromas.
Sit hunched over my laptop until 7, then panic and scramble together something shit that inevitably involves pasta. Or beans.
7. Start of lockdown
Create an ‘office zone’ at the dining table with enough room to arrange my files and stationery and enjoy maximum ergonomic comfort.
Slump on the sofa with my laptop on my knee, an acute case of RSI, and papers and wires strewn everywhere.
8. Start of lockdown
Bake, knowing that it’s good for my soul and will save money on expensive confectionary items, as well as stop me eating so much sugar.
Bake, resulting in banana muffins with all the joy and refinement of a bag of rubber bullets, eating them anyway as they don’t taste that bad, and eating the contents of the biscuit tin as well.
9. Start of lockdown
Promise to use this time to embrace a more thorough skincare and beauty regime, and resist dying hair as it will only make it harder for my lovely hairdresser to rectify.
Leave skincare until last thing at night when I’m so knackered that I half-heartedly remove my make-up with a wipe. Dye hair as soon as a I see any greys (every week) so that I now resemble a crap Cher tribute act.
10. Start of lockdown
Create a zen pre-bedtime zen meditation area in my bedroom where I commit to at least ten minutes of mindfulness followed by a few pages of my latest Amazon delivery: a wonderful book on spirituality.
Get into bed. Chat shit on Twitter. Fall asleep.
Whether you’re a lockdown DIYer, baker, entrepreneur, crafter or none of the above, I wholeheartedly salute you for getting through the last few months. Go on, give me a few of your ‘then and now’ comparisons in the comments!
I’ll just grab a wine first…