Oh dear, it's Friday the 13th. What could do wrong? Firstly, the people booked to arrive today have had to cancel their flight. Fifteen minutes before they were due to board, the father of the young girl coming to play in the ITF matches, received an email to say that the tournament had been cancelled due to the coronavirus. Despite being assured throughout the day that this wouldn't happen, there appeared to be a change of mind at the last minute. The man is very apologetic and asks if he can compensate us. The thought is tempting, but we tell him that it is not his fault and we fully understand.
Life has suddenly taken on this strange, uncertain feel. Everything looks the same, but beneath is this current of anxiety. The Western press is full of horror stories and statistics. In the afternoon, I collect Ellie from hockey practice; life at school appears to be continuing just as normal.
In the evening, I do a session of yoga which gives me a huge boost of energy. I find that I am whizzing around, getting things done - this is very different to my usual Friday night when I am half dead. Around 9pm, I fetch Sian and her friend from youth group. Sian is horrified that I am wearing my dressing gown, although I don't see the problem as long as I don't get out of the car. I always remember a girl at school whose father used to drive her to school every day in his pyjamas. One day, the car broke down and she was mortified when he got out in his dressing gown and slippers and prepared to look at the engine. It's funny what you remember from your school days.
The yoga seems to have done something to my brain as I can't sleep at all.
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