Blog day – 26
Dear fellow captives,
I never thought that we would get to this point as together and sane as we are. Bearing down to the end of our 28 days, I am amazed that we are still speaking to each other, no one has threatened a bubble break and said husband even took it well just now when he delivered me coffee and I told him he had forgotten to heat up the cup. I know, as soon as I said it I thought it was a remarkably inflammatory thing for me to have chirped back at the coffee deliverer. I am very lucky to get a coffee delivered let alone normally expect it to be in a heated cup. Yes I am spoilt. But what amazed me is that clearly we are not yet living in an emotional home filled with gas waiting for any mere spark (or cold coffee cup) to blow our bubble to smithereens. Remarkable!
I do hope your bubbles are faring as well (but your coffee cups are heated). Congratulations and a solid pat on the back to all those out there who have achieved the same dizzying heights of unburst bubbles. We have done well.
So in our self-satisfied, congratulatory communal space, what next? Come on Jacinda, what are you going to throw at us now? Although being drawn in this inevitable direction, actually no one would be mad enough to ask my view on the big decision today. But pressing on undeterred, as many unqualified men who know nothing of the said topic would, I give my view anyway with an undeserved level of force and conviction that would make Donald Trump proud. So I make the call. I reckon as Trump would call it “its gonna be a chicken drumstick day”. Jacinda will let us have the odd greasy KFC, bacon and egg McMuffin, or burger that never resembles its packaging to quell rising disquiet, or at least seal it with a layer of grease and fat. Sadly for us who can work from home, we don’t get much else though.
So instead, I ask, actually I am prepared to beg, for a runway. Give me a target Jacinda. Tell me if all goes okay how long it will be before the kids will be back at school properly (not voluntarily) and I can head to the office then I will aim single mindedly for that goal and put aside my fed-up-ed-ness (that should so be a word – so versatile). So I want a chicken drumstick day with a pathway to normality.
I should not be so grim about the new chicken drumstick life. We do get to go for a longer drive and walk and that would be nice. Even a swim if we are brave enough or desperate enough. You surfers can head out (although a small number of you surfy rule breakers don’t deserve it). We get back on mountain bike tracks. Phew. Small mercies. I am also hoping my favourite Indian takeaways opens up so I can prawn vindaloo said husband and butter chicken up the teenagers. All served with lashings of garlic naan.
So today I will listen with trepidation to Jacinda at 4pm. I want my chicken drumsticks and more. Give me my runway out of here Jacinda. I’ve been a good girl and its so out of character I’m not sure how long it will last…
Kia kaha, my lovelies, and adieu. Stay safe and remember grease is on its way to a place near you!