Diary of a Furloughed Solicitor
- AuthorAmanda Gait
It seems that the current challenging times are bringing out all sorts of creativity from our team and many are putting pen to paper. So far we've had two emotional and heartfelt blogs from Clare and Stacey and now we have a more humorous scripture on what it's like to be a furloughed solicitor from Amanda. A funny read and probably one that many can relate to.
"The Diary of a Furloughed Solicitor by Amanda Gait"
I wake up and as usual I ask myself “what day is it?” then promptly answer “does it matter?“. I'll park that thought for later.
What shall I wear? I spend 30 minutes trying to decide whether it should be joggers or gym wear. I opt for gym wear: I may be taking the recycling out later and the neighbours will think I am super fit and sporty.
Brush teeth. Have a wash. I decide that the only thing that will hide my overgrown hair and dark roots is a woolly hat. I find perfect bobble hat and resolve to wear it all day.
Check phone for messages. None.
I have breakfast. I ignore last nights resolution that the diet will start today. I resolve never to drink again given the headache. I must drink 8 pints of water (or is it 8 glasses?).
Check phone for messages. None.
I take the dogs for walk. I try to adhere to social distancing rules but the dogs don’t. Disaster.
I return home. Check phone for messages. None. I check the WiFi as clearly it can't be working.
Ring Mother. Explain (yet again) that Dunelm is not an essential service and neither is the carpet shop. And no, she cant go and check.
I decide to shave my legs. Then after considering the job realise that I don’t have 2 hours spare to complete the task. Will do it tomorrow.
Will definitely clean oven. I open the oven and decide that its probably a job for the weekend (whenever that is). I close the oven and hide the oven cleaner.
My daily exercise: Can I get to the post before my Yorkshire Terrier? The answer today is 'no'. I spend the next 30 mins trying to piece together the ripped post.
Excitement. I receive a call. It's Gavin from telesales. “Do you know you qualify for a grant for solar panels?”. After numerous attempts to end the call I finally let Gavin go at 12 noon. But not before letting him know that I have made a note of his number and will ring him tomorrow!
I take out my recycling, but not before wrapping the numerous bottles in paper so the neighbours can't count the avalanche of bottles falling into the bin. I wave to neighbour and jog back inside.
I realise that I have my gym pants on inside out. I don’t bother to change them.
Some teenagers emerge from their pits. After empting the fridge they retreat back to their pits. I spend the usual 15 minutes shouting at the door with orders to tidy their room (which is met with the usual grunts and sighs and cries of how unfair I am).
I decide to attempt to bake an Italian Pear and Pine Nut Ring Cake. I realise I haven’t got any pears... or pine nuts… or double cream… or almond extract. I opt for Victoria sponge instead.
Telephone call from Mother. I explain that just because M&S Food Hall is open it doesn’t mean she can go and buy a new jumper.
I unveil a disaster of a cake. After re-checking the recipe with reading glasses on, apparently it required 3 eggs not 6 and 1½ teaspoons of vanilla essence not 1½ tablespoons.
I mediate between teenagers who are coming to blows over who ate the last KitKat. Luckily no one has realised it was me.
Put on Joe Wicks fitness DVD.
Turn off Joe Wicks fitness DVD.
I fight off the dogs as they attempt to ravage the Amazon delivery man.
I apologise to Amazon delivery man (again).
I prepare one vegan meal, one vegetarian meal, one pescatarian meal, and one cave man meal.
Check phone for texts. None.
I check time and decide that one glass of wine won't do any harm.
I get my third glass of wine
I order something useless on Amazon.
I resolve to start my diet tomorrow.
Awake coughing. I spend next 2 hours wondering if it's Covid-19 or if I were just snoring too much.
Wake and repeat the above.