I’ll be back, Thursday 2 July 2020 Day 106.

But it was Just my imagination, once again runnin' away with me.

It’s July enough said!

Would you credit it, the aff it’s heid show received some answers on a postcard about me entering “Rock the Lockdown” suggestions included, Jackanory style reading of random nonsense, a talking head in the style of Catherine Calderwood. The most popular was the tap dance which I was really into, but as hard as I tried, I just couldn’t get the taps aff the sink.

Sadly, due to lack of interest Rock the Lockdown was cancelled. To be honest I reckon my neighbour would have been raging listening to me repeating, tap, tap, shuffle shuffle, hop step and jumping about like a fairy elephant.

On a happy note I got a hair appointment for Thursday 16 July at 9.00am, remember when you were wee and you put a sock out on Christmas Eve and when you woke up in the morning it was bulging with goodies, and you were pure excited, I am even more excited than that!

But honestly see If people don’t behave and Nicola puts us back into lockdown and my hair cut is in jeopardy, I am gonna round up the Tollcross Tootsies, we will hunt down the rogue bastards and force feed them scalding hot sausage rolls, a vegan option will be available, we’re no completely ruthless.

I had a very weird and somewhat scary experience this week, I had ordered extra equipment from work and as I live in a five-mile radius I could pick it up from the office. Understandably work is trying to avoid people bumping into each other, so the time slot is very strict as are the instructions to enter the building. My slot was 2pm on Tuesday, paranoid about missing it I found myself driving down Robertson street at 1.20 so I thought I would park and have a wander.

After parking I bumped into someone in the basement lift area, we went through the two meter dance and the mandatory idle chit chat, “would you believe it” “never” “Oh I know” “who would have thought” “yes I’m doing all right”

One day I would just love to say Get tae fuck, I am so bored talking about “the situation” and NO I am not fucking coping, I am on the fucking edge, I’ve turned into a stalker, I’ve joined a gang, I’m on 36 wham bars a day, I’ve had to hire a skip cause Glasgow council has still no resumed glass collection since early March and the cunts have only opened the dumps for household waste. Can we please, please, please for the love of god just talk about the weather. I’d be all crazy eyed and starey saying it.

But I know I won’t do that because I’d worry, I’d make someone upset and greet, then I’d greet, it’s a vicious circle.

After my wander I went back into the office, I took the lift to the third floor (Lazy Bastard) being in a lift was really strange, I used the sanitiser, pressed my floor, used the sanitiser again, got off the lift in the foyer used the sanitiser, went into the floor used the sanitiser, my hands were red raw but I was paranoid in case the sanitiser police were following me and it’s better to be safe.

It was weird I was in a very familiar environment yet with all the safety measures it seemed eerie and unfamiliar. I picked up my box of equipment, had a lovely chat to colleagues I hadn’t seen for a while, just as I walked into the foyer to leave I heard the lift ping, I was taken by surprise as no-one should be on the floor for another ten mins so I hung back from the doors.

The lift doors opened, two woman masked up tae fuck walked out the lift, in perfect sync with each other they took two steps forward then turned to face the office door, they eyed me up and down, it felt menacing and to be honest I was bricking it a tiny bit, aye ok a big bit.

I put my hands up so they could see I had sanitised but fuck I never had a mask on, what if they think, I was a threat to them….. What if they were the sanitiser police, they looked the part.

I slowly pulled my mask out my pocket and slipped it on, my legs nearly gave out when I saw one of them reach behind and pull something out the back of their trousers…….Fuck, it looked like a Winchester lever action shotgun but I couldn’t be sure as my glasses had steamed up with the fucking mask.

I now knew how Sarah Conners felt in Terminator 2 when Arnie came out the lift in the hospital. Sweating I started backing myself up to the door, by now I couldn’t see a fucking thing and the only thing I could hear was my heart beating and my heavy breathing. Unlike Sarah Connors I’m a shit bag so I clutched the box to my chest and bolted like a rocket down the stairs.

By the time I reached the basement I was fucking knackered, I collapsed against the car bonnet gasping trying to catch my breath.

A few minutes later two girls from the IT department walked by me. “All right Lynne, so glad we didn’t need this brolly, lovely day isn’t”

I need to get out more… Hasta la vista!