I’m having a bad day today.

I guess we all are. In the immortal words of Marcus Aurelius, “Shit is fucked all the way up, yo”.

It certainly is. And nearly everyone is having a worse time of it than I am. I’m a middle-class white guy who can work from home and who has a contract running for a further four months before I even have to think about looking for work. My immediate family are safe and healthy (if bored and scratchy), as am I, and the freezers and cupboards are stocked to bursting. (There may have been some Brexit-related stockpiling before the current situation which saw us through the initial period of shopping difficulties.)

So that’s all good. We’re OK, and we’ll probably continue to be OK.

But I am going out of my goddamn mind. I was having some issues with my mental health last year from around September onwards, and that situation is far from resolved. It’s just had to go in the internal cupboard marked “Can’t do anything about it right now” so that I can continue to function and keep the income incoming. My normal method of plastering over stuff like that until I have time to process it is wine. But I’m currently not drinking (33 days so far), so I’m having to actually … you know … have emotions and deal with them.

Turns out I’m not great at that.

Dammit. Now I’m whining into my blog.

Fuck’s sake.

OK never mind, do what you can to support your health services and call out the racists.

Stay safe, I’ll see you soon.