Lockdown

Thing’s lockdown should improve on:

• Give police the option to use any force necessary on protesters. It’s no fair they get to go outside and get pepper sprayed just to feel something again.
•  More toilet paper.

1.2/10.

“The thing about doing nothing is that you can’t knock off” – My great grandfather.

It’s the start of winter and people are getting crook. Not just any old crook though, Coronavirus delta variant SARs-COV-2 COVID-19 has hit the shores of Bondi and oh boy we were in for a treat. The cases began to climb and the stocks began to fall, it was round 2 for the germ and we were already KO’d from last year.

Sure enough, people were coughing and our supreme overlords told us to crawl back into our holes and not to come out for a few weeks. Afraid I was going to become a hermit, I called mum and dad seeing if I should come back home to the country.

“It’s only 2 weeks darl you’ll be right.”

Anyways, fast forward a few months and you’ll find a skinny, white, iron and vitamin D deficient uni student, lying in bed on his third nap of the day. Few people utilise their time wisely and find ways to better themselves through discipline.

But I’m lazy and find self-help books to be a waste of time because my attention span is as long as Harold Holt’s swimming career. I’ll stick to Tik Tok and disappointing my parent’s thanks.

My hair began to thicken, and I considered getting the dreaded mullet attached to my skull.

“Nah I’ll be getting a job soon”

This was week 3, out of the 4 months in lockdown. I had to find other activities to keep my brain firing on at least 2 cylinders, something I’ve always struggled with.

Walking became the main form of entertainment outside the house. Although exercise was allowed, it still felt illegal. Taking off your mask meant you were in danger of the riot squad giving you a wrestle, I wasn’t taking any chances. Mask on.

Frequent phone calls from the parents and 10 second pauses in conversations became the norm. Nothing was entertaining enough to talk about with people who live normal lives outside the realm of lockdown. I’m pretty sure I even sent a meme to my 50 year old father, a definite low point for the both of us. A simple “read: at 11:57am” cuts deep let me tell you.

I considered purchasing a rain gauge to measure the rain in our small brick courtyard.

“Why?” Ask my housemates

Damn they’ve got me. My new hobby of measuring rain has stopped before it has begun. The country boy in me was dying, I yearned for some acres.

After months of no sun, it was announced lockdown would end, and to be honest I was afraid. I had not talked to anyone in real life (except housemates).

“Are you going to pick any birds Cameron? HA HA!”

Champion, I’ve been hiding in my room like Osama Bin Laden for the past few months and you think I’ll be talking to the female species? One step at a time please and thank you. For now, the beers are calling, and my bank account is asking to be abused. Skew on.

TAH.