March 23rd

Subway and McDonald's, the two biggest fast food chains in the country, and Nandos, the cheekiest fast food chain in the country, closed "until further notice" at close of business today.  To be honest it feels a bit odd to think they were still open.  Just last night I saw a McDonald's ad that, while slick, smacked of opportunism as it advertised their new delivery service (through Uber Eats).  Evidently they were keen to surf the wave of stay-at-home diners.  The papers today are full of disapproval at the "record numbers" of people pouring into the countryside for a nice walk over the sunny weekend.  It's hilarious - we get asked to stay home and immediately get the car out.  Clowns, all.

This video popped up on the BBC and makes for surreal, almost Black Mirror viewing, like it's trying too hard to act like it's got nothing to do with an authoritarian regime keeping everyone home as it labours the point: NHS heroes want YOU to stay home.  I suppose it is more subtle than a giant Edward Argar jabbing a finger at me.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/uk-northern-ireland-51999437/stay-at-home-doctors-and-nurses-appeal-to-uk

Another video showed off a 20-way conference call between three-year-olds and a cockney Princess Elsa, a birthday party concept that would have given Charlie Brooker nightmares were it not for the wider context, not of laziness and social isolation due to technology but, you know, a rampant virus stalking the outdoors.

I walked the dogs after work.  They chased a fox in the woods, which is concerning.  The Great Park has been all but closed recently so we only have two walks.  One is the Racecourse, which might be closed at any time, and the other is through a field adjacent to woods which harbour, it turns out, quite an athletic fox.  It's the third time now and I am worried I am going to be arrested not for breaking curfew but for running the only illegal fox hunt with dogs in Berkshire.  I came back via the shop to post a Boden return of Harriet's.  A mundane reason to risk my life butk, well, it's only cluttering up the place otherwise.  I took the opportunity to pick up a few bits - naan bread, a bar of chocolate, some crisps.  There was no pre-sliced bread at all, but plenty of fresh fruit out front.  I wonder how long this relative normalcy will last.  Contactless worked; it's really come into its own this past fortnight.  The guy behind the counter had those blue sterile gloves on.  It's the little differences.

At home I washed my hands immediately but didn't think to wash all the packets before they went into the cupboard.  Ah well.  I stashed the chocolate in the cupboard behind the mirror in the downstairs loo.  With any luck I'll forget it until the rationing gets really bad.

This evening, an announcement: the PM will address the nation at half eight.  I went out to top up the car with diesel, just in case.  Sign on the pump saying everyone MUST wear the gloves.  Automatic door, contactless payment.. this is actually workable, you know.  While there I went next door and picked up some fresh fruit at Harry's panicked request, forgetting entirely the stuff outside the Londis I'd seen mere hours earlier.  Sainsburys was pretty raided; the only fresh veg were some iceberg lettuces and a whole load of celery.  Poor celery, always the unwanted stepchild.  I got two, and some Taramasalata because, well, nom.  I grabbed a bag from the normal checkouts, which of course was desperate not to let go of its bretheren or to open without serious fiddling.  I resisted an instinct to lick my fingers.  I opted for self-checkout as the staff were not in gloves, but only after inelegantly sliding my items one by one into the newly prised open bag did I realise I couldn't avoid touching the screen.  Then I had to touch my phone with my tainted finger to pay.  Everything is contaminated now.  Might as well just curl up in the gutter and wait for the plague to take me.

Back home bang on eight thirty and Boris announced what he should have done a week ago: full lockdown, only leave the house for essentials.  Wonder if the twats flooding to their second homes will realise their catastrophic error when the local NHS urgent care clinic is double overwhelmed compared to the nice big hospital near their primary residence.  Game of Scrabble seemed the only thing to do.  Harry ended it early due to my insufferable winningness.

Sorry, must be the nerves.  Quite possible that there are people in my family I've already seen for the last time.  Christ, if the Covid takes me before the lockdown ends I might have had my last Big Mac already.  There's a thought.