Friday. My favourite day of the week starts early, because I went to bed early (for me) the night before.

I ponder how to fill the day. I can’t do a workout at 5.30 because it would wake my neighbours. Instead I potter around, tidying. I’m not a congenitally tidy person but living with at least two people who are horrifically chaotic has persuaded me that someone has to be the grown up and try and maintain some order. Living for a few days in the even smaller space of the train cabin has only confirmed my view that it’s much better to spend time sorting things out and knowing where everything is than wasting time looking for something when you actually need it and disrupting everything else in the process. So I put away my washing and everything seems neater.

As my first week here draws to a close I’m starting to fret about changing my sheets. Those in the more expensive hotels, The Husband for instance. tell me that they can ask for a change of sheets as often as they wish. There’s been no such instruction for me and I baulk at what I would find under my sheets when stripping the bed. It’s disconcerting enough to have a plastic bag encasing the pillow that rustles as I lie on it. I feels wrong, someohow, to sleep so close to something that could suffocate me, that is NOT a toy.

My aircon has developed a noisy rattle but I’m not supposed to switch it off, even though it can get cold. The thermostat says 27 degrees. It is NOT 27 degrees in this room. 

I have ordered my Pret breakfast for 8.30 today. Yesterday I ordered it an hour earlier but we are only supposed to have deliveries between 9 and 9 so it sat around downstairs for half an hour and the coffee was cold by the time it was brought up. You live and learn.

My Day 5 swab PCR comes back negative just like the Day 3 spit PCR and the Day 1 PCR at the airport not to mention the two I did in Vancouver.

I do another couple of workouts; spend some time struggling with Bach; order supper from Feather and Bone – although one has to order before 6 and almost everything I fancied eating has already sold out. Binge on sweets and biscuits. Yes. I know. But I’ve got to eat them some time and it might as well be now. And there we have it: the end of another day.