Wednesday, January 5

Day 7 of our quarantine and I start the day by writing the second third of the argument for the book.

I feel tired before we even have breakfast because we had a long, strange evening yesterday. Irma feels considerably more tired than me since her campsite came complete with unwanted noise and wind.

We had ordered a bed two days ago and – to our surprise – it arrived yesterday about 21:30, on top of a rickshaw, with four people to carry it upstairs.

Before they arrived we had to move two other beds and as they left we learned that we couldn’t sleep in the new bed because the varnish needed to dry for 24 hours.

Cue a night of sleep-deprived camping.

At midday I wander into the utility room and catch sight of a wall painting left by the previous tenants. I realise that our quarantine has almost reached its end and look forward to leaping frog-like out of the house and into the world.