Insomnia is like an intruder. I beg it to leave.
6am -8.30am: Sleep finally arrives, the intruder gone. There is nothing like waking up exhausted.
Meditation led by Oprah&Deepak: Hope in Uncertain Times
News: A child aged 5 becomes UK’s youngest victim. In USA, NRA filed a lawsuit against NY Governor over gun stores closure. India quarantines 1.3 billion people for 3 weeks.
I watch Russel Brand rant online. He says democracy is dead, and government can click its fingers and *snap*, just like that, we’re indoors. His point isn’t that lockdown is a bad idea, (the opposite, actually) his point is that we don’t really have a say, not to the extent we think we do.
11am – D drives to the pharmacy. Unfamiliar procedures involved taping a note and ID to the car window, to avoid contact at the police check points.
2pm: CI Gov Press Brief: 6 new cases. Total 35. Premier says the outlook for tourism is bleak for the rest of the year. Local businesses are encouraged to send work permit holders home. Staying home is the new #caymankind
4.30pm – “Another one bites the dust” – reverberates through every room and out to sea. This is the ultimate playlist of the eighties, thanks to Sonos and Apple Music. It’s also the soundtrack to our family cleaning session. Everyone is singing and scrubbing in time to the beat. B is scooping up gunk off the cook top.
Me: “Perhaps use a sponge instead of the Egyptian cotton napkin?” Meanwhile A is vacuuming dog hair off the couch, whilst the dozing dog watches her with one eye. Give people a vacuum with a trigger, and suddenly it’s a toy. I am on bathroom duty. I notice B has way too many designer aftershaves and Crep shoe cleaning products.
The cleaning session is over, and I’m sure the teens enjoyed it more than our average family dinner. And they say I have a wierd sense of fun.
6pm – run around the sleepy roads
6.30 pm- D&I walk the dog before the 34-hour hard curfew starts at 7pm.
8pm- movie 🎥 The Breakfast Club.
