Maybe you heard something about a virus...?

The delight that is COVID-19 is making its merry way around the globe. Thousands have died, hundreds of thousands have caught it (how the hell have 47 people in the Faroe Islands caught it? I didn't think there were that many people there...), and many many more will catch it. At time of writing, schools in England remain open and BogJob has advised people to stay away from pubs and restaurants without making them close, so they can't trigger their insurance. Fuck you, Boris. Fuck you so very much.

My family went to Luton on Saturday and successfully bought a car for my wife and did some shopping. On Monday we went into self-isolation mode, since my current workplace advised working from home if possible, and later that day they shut the London office due to a confirmed case of COVID-19. My wife went down with what appeared to be a cold on Sunday. She seems much better now. We decided to keep our son home from school regardless of what the clown at number 10 says.

So this is self-isolation day 3, and I'm very grateful to have a job that allows me to work from home. As the only source of income, and a freelancer at that, any interruption in earnings hits us seriously. It's going alright at the moment.

Eagle-eyed listeners will note there isn't really a point to this post. You're right, of course, but that is the point. I'm just sticking my hand up and saying "I'm still here, and it's going ok."

I hope you're still there and that it's going ok too.

I hope to fit in some proper blogging during the coming weeks, if only to prevent my brain from eating itself. I've half-written the "H" entry of the A-Z, and I'm still whittling the shortlist for 2019's Album of the Year. I know, I bet you're on the edge of your wossname.

So that's it for now. Stay safe, stay home, stay hydrated, stay frosty.

Find me on Twitter or Instagram if you want.

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