COVID-19 Journal: Day 38

I woke up still really fucked off about what happened yesterday. I don't want this diary to be about work particularly, though it might sneak out from time to time. I was fucking angry because we were culled from a grant application process on an immaterial technicality. So, poof! That hope has been dashed. A guillotine move because they were completed overwhelmed by the number of applications. At least it was quick?

Anyway. Commiserated with the family, and a bunch of bawdy dames I'm friends with who move in similar circles and were all very sympathetic. And thanks, Gill, for calling to listen to me shout about it. It was raining outside. I was storming about the house before sitting at the front window, which I do each day now, pretty much. Watching the world go by.

Me and my shadow

I decided to say fuck it and go for a tromp in the rain. It was cold again today, so I rugged up and grabbed my brolly. I wandered the streets, polishing off Disobedience, and found myself returned to that wondrous cheese palace, La Fromagerie. There was a small table in the doorway with a cash machine on it. OK, no entry. I asked for good cheese for a grilled cheese. My stomach was saying I needed that. I was offered some emmental and then some raclette, so I said YASS. Anything else, the nice lady asked. I'd spied a little dark cake in a basket -- that shop is solid danger -- and I innocently asked about that. Ginger cake, she said. I said, yes, I'll 'ave 'im. I stuffed the cheese in my pockets and wandered away after chatting briefly to the other two customers out the front. Apparently yesterday was different story, and the rain was keeping people STAYING HOME even more.

I wandered past the grocer and there was nobody inside except the staff. DOUBLE YASS. So I went and got oranges, cherry toms, flat beans, cos lettuce (the lettuce in the glass trick was boring), a red pepper, mushrooms, coriander, mint, spring onions, giant spring onions, potatoes, cauliflower, beetroot, ginger, blueberries, and a dozen eggs. I can't wait to eat it all! OMG raclette and potatoes?!?

I came home, chilly and a bit wet. My boots were properly wet. I took great pleasure in getting out of my wet clothes and getting cosy. I put the food away, made a cup of tea, and then had some of the ginger cake. It was delicious, and I felt much better after the ire of the morning. I have accepted there was absolutely fuck all I could do to change the stupid programmed culling decision.

I never knew you could be friends with a cake

I had a heartwarming call with Kate & Renata, who have been chiming in and helping out with work. They were sorry to hear my tale of woe about the grant stupidness, and it was so buoying to have them making suggestions and sharing ideas about what to do. It was also lovely to hear that from friends. I forget how much support I have, especially when I'm woe is me. I mean look at this FANTASTIC PACKET OF FUN Claire sent me, in the POST?!?

Gestures from friends are so welcome when you're an independent person

I'm glad to not be especially depressed or anxious at the moment. It's great and a bit surprising, but I still succumb to freezing up a bit when I can't determine a good next step. When I was devouring the little cake, there was a lady on the radio talking about how her mental health is so shot she was surprised she hadn't killed herself because of how low and lonely she's been in the lockdown.

My favourite thing on the internet (yesterday) was Kate Bush performing Babushka on telly in the 80s. What a jewel.