And so the brand new lockdown begins. As soon as extra, the novel change to the approach to life of your columnist. Staying in all day turning into a advantage once more, fairly than proof of idleness and/or melancholy. I’m staying in mattress so I can lower your expenses on heating. It additionally saves put on and tear on garments. I can’t bear in mind if I’ve talked about this earlier than, however I’ve solely two pairs of trousers I can put on outdoors. Of my different two, one wants a zipper changing and the opposite is threadbare to the purpose of translucency. And I’ve now seen a gap within the crotch of my black 501s, which signifies that both I get a brand new pair on-line or purchase some black underpants. (I favour white underwear: it retains you trustworthy.)

A beneficiant Christmas current from my mom means I might afford new Levi’s if I wished them however I don’t like shopping for every day attire on-line. One has to strive the trousers on in the actual world, in a altering room, and when are we going to see the within of a altering room once more?

I prowl the confines of my flat like a caged panther. I do know the phrase “panther” sounds flattering, so consider a panther with the hair round its muzzle rising white and a stomach that just about touches the bottom. And but I can nonetheless match into trousers that measure the identical across the waist as they did after I first began shopping for trousers of my very own. What’s that every one about?

Anyway, again to my flat. Let me present you spherical it, within the method of Xavier de Maistre, creator of Voyage Round My Room (1794), and to not be confused together with his huge brother, Joseph de Maistre. Xavier was way more congenial. (Joseph had a hard-on for the loss of life penalty.) “I’d pretty start the eulogium of my journey by saying it has value me nothing. This level deserves consideration,” is how Xavier’s journey begins, and I might say the identical factor.

Let me begin with the bed room. About 12ft sq., most of it’s taken up by a mattress. The mattress has “bachelor” written throughout it. The sheet is cotton and the cover is full of goose down, as are the pillows, however banish all ideas of seductive luxurious. I used to be unable to seek out any fitted sheets of the proper dimension in Debenhams, and the sheet has turn out to be unmoored from the mattress and is just saved in place beneath the physique by half-hearted every day changes and a pile of books on the left-hand aspect. On the plus aspect, it’s the first mattress I’ve had since 2007 that isn’t jammed in opposition to the wall. On the debit aspect, there’s not a lot level in strolling round it, for the left-hand aspect has solely a small hole between it and the built-in wardrobe, which is unused aside from storing the empty wine bins my books had been packed in. (The bins will likely be used once more for a similar goal after I transfer out.) There isn’t any level in placing garments within the wardrobe as a result of I’ve no hangers.

[see also: If there’s one good thing 2021 has to offer, it’s the return of romance in my life]

There are hooks on the partitions from which photos have clearly been hung, however I’m not hanging any photos from them as a result of I’ll solely have to hold them with me after I transfer out, and likewise, all my photos are in storage at my mom’s.

The view from the window is of a lot nicer homes reverse – or can be if the glass weren’t, in winter, completely dripping with condensation. The partitions and curtains are gray, and the carpet, all through the flat, shouldn’t be precisely gray however of a salt-and-pepper design that is kind of the identical as gray, actually. I’m pretty assured that no intercourse will ever happen on this bed room.

The lounge is maybe barely larger. I don’t know, I forgot to deliver the tape measure with me. I might get a kind of intelligent devices that fires a laser beam on the reverse wall and tells you ways far-off it’s, however I don’t like the thought of spending £14.99, or nevertheless a lot they’re, to be instructed that the lounge shouldn’t be a lot larger than a shoebox, which I’ve already labored out for myself. I’m very assured that no intercourse will ever happen in the lounge, both.

The kitchen is an unheated icebox in regards to the dimension of a coffin. When the solar shines it turns into one thing of a greenhouse, so it’s important to be fairly cautious about leaving meals out. It heats up fairly rapidly while you’re cooking, during which case it turns right into a steam room, and water drips from the ceiling like rain. I’m supremely assured that it is going to be a chilly day in hell earlier than any form of erotic shenanigans happen in that room.

Which leaves us with the lavatory. And, oh expensive, I appear to be operating out of house. Which appears to be acceptable. I’ll reserve it for subsequent week, until I get loads of letters begging me to jot down about one thing else. However what else is there to jot down about?

[see also: In lockdown, I have become unhealthily obsessed with what my neighbours think of me]

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