From the Archive for the Archive
Each year, on the 12th of May, The Mass Observation Archive invites Britons to write an account of their day. I try to remember to do it each year. Here's what I wrote in 2020, in the midst of the first Covid-19 lockdown and its aftermath.
The alarm went off at 06.20, I fell asleep again and dreamt that I was talking to the Radio 4 presenter Martha Kearney (Today was playing as I dozed). I woke, made tea, fed the cats, and then sat in bed with my partner listening to the radio and talking. It was a beautiful morning but cold. Discussion on the radio mostly focused on trying to make sense of Boris Johnson’s new Stay Alert rules for the now semi-lockdown. I got up again at 07.40am and dressed to exercise. I only took up the gym, and lifting in particular, last summer and now I have to make do at home. I have a small amount of equipment so I trained for around 25 minutes. I showered and dressed and sat down at my desk to work. Working from home is familiar so the shift to this state because of the lockdown hasn’t caused either of us any major problems. On Tuesdays I work in what I call my ‘other job’.
My other job is for a project that’s funded by Arts Council England but also based in the university where I work. This means that my inbox is always filling up with queries from both. Today was an odd day, I had a lot on my to do list but didn’t feel like I was making much progress on anything. I had a few online meetings, spoke to my boss and so on. At our lunchtime team check-in we talked about the underlying anxiety we were all feeling and tried to think of more ways to support our colleague who is working from home with two toddlers. After that, I carried on working at my laptop but found myself very distracted and unproductive. My partner needed to use our study for her online meeting so I stayed downstairs on the sofa in the sunshine.
At 5pm, I observed a close colleague’s online teaching as part of her higher education teaching qualification. The session was focused on writing a reflective essay. It went well, the students seemed to be enjoying it. I wrote my notes and then called my partner downstairs. It was 6pm and time to call our 13 year-old Goddaughter to wish her a happy birthday. Over a very poor connection we giggled with her, her brother and our old friends – her parents – as we remembered her early years as a toddler. I think a lot about the passing of time and, like all middle-aged people, wonder at how twenty years can slip by unnoticed, but I simply cannot understand how our Goddaughter is already a teenager. It bewilders me. After that, my partner went back to work for another hour or so and I went out for a walk alone. It was sunny but not warm and I didn’t stay out long. It was good enough just to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes, out in the fresh air. Back home, I poured myself a beer and browsed through Twitter. Eventually my partner called down so I prepared our dinner and we ate in front of the final ever episode of Madam Secretary, a very silly American programme about a former spy who becomes Secretary of State and then, eventually, the first woman President of the US. We are old so it pleased us that Tyne Daly (of Cagney and Lacey) was guest starring. After dinner we watched another episode of Normal People, the BBC’s adaption of Sally Rooney’s novel. It’s watchable but not revelatory. I am mostly convinced that the author watched another American series, The OC, when she was a teenager and the novel is her retelling of it.
We watched some of the news and finally went to bed. I was tired. I’ve been tired for weeks. We are living through times that will be written about in many forms for a generation and more – from Brexit to Trump to Covid-19 in half a decade. It is head-spinning.