Paul Davidson
100 words 049
Father’s Day was treat after treat. The Chef took Piglet while I had my lie in; card and coffee waiting for when I surfaced. And football is back — still mad that it beat the schools opening in this joke of a country — and I was allowed uninterrupted beers on the couch while watching it. Comforting salted pork meals bookended the day like a happy, unhealthy cuddle.
The Monday that followed was less fun. The house pervaded with frustration from work and each other. Lockdown fatigue had seeped in overnight.
Had a bit of a corona-cry this morning, which helped.
23 June 2020