It’s a little like Christmas because
It’s nearly lunchtime and I’m still not dressed
I’m mindlessly eating chocolate before breakfast
Getting dressed involves exchanging indoor slouch pants for hiking trousers
I’m not going to bed before 2 am
It’s like Christmas but
The smell of smoked ham, cloved red cabbage and gingerbread isn’t filling the house
The scent of the real Christmas tree isn’t putting a smile on my face every time I enter the room
There are no visitors to eat fancy cheeses or my gourmet pud
We’re not listening to airport reunions on the radio or experimenting with G&Ts made with flamed rosemary from the garden or Jamie’s mulled cider or whatever is this year’s trendy Christmas drink
We haven’t received and regifted a half dozen tins of Quality Street or Roses
We’re not wrapping presents in plain sight for the sheer thrill of being caught
We’re not giving out about having to go to this or that because we’re going nowhere
It’s like Christmas but instead of
Playing scrabble and fighting over gin rummy rules and scores
We’re working and studying from home and complaining about bandwidth
We’re going to bed late but getting up earlier than ever because we can’t sleep
Instead of watching Love Actually or It’s a wonderful life in incandescent light
We tune in for today’s count that arrest us like the toll when a tribute dies in the Hunger Games
We find tears running down our faces every few hours
The sun is shining, there is heat in the air but we’re staying indoors.