Quarantine Diary (Unsuccessful Competition Entry)

A friend sent me a competition he thought I’d be interested in. A radio show wanted people to share what five day logs from their quarantine diary would look like. I don’t listen to the radio; my only form of entertainment is Russia Today but I entered anyway.

I didn’t win. Neither did I come close. You can compare it to the finalists if you want, but this is the final resting place of my attempt.

Day 1: Practiced my cough a few times before calling the Boss. “Hello hello…I can’t make it in today. I’m not well…” He reckons the entire country is on lockdown, and I missed all my deadlines. Called my girlfriend to ask what lockdown he’s talking about and she reminded me about the restraining order. Guess no shower today; country is on lockdown.

Day 2: Woke up screaming. As is routine. A growl from my stomach? Hunger? No, that’s the wardrobe; something lives in there. Found half a vienna in the back of the fridge. That Listeriosis thing is over, right?

Day 3: Fast and the Furious marathon on TV. I know Hollywood isn’t a meritocracy because Vin Diesel is famous. I heard garlic is good for you so that was my lunch. Garlic served rare with a side of Caucasian bread. Someone once told me garlic is an aphrodisiac. The French eat a ton of it and isn’t the symbol of their entire country a giant phallic thing? Makes sense. There is an itch in my lockdown trousers.

Day 4: Where is the lady that makes clean clothes? I think she’s the one. She arrives without disturbing me and leaves by 3. You don’t know what you got until its gone. I hope her husband treats her right. The half vienna took revenge for its’ neglect. Fortunately, I’m the John Wick of fighting diarrhoea.

Day 5: Got up early. Fed two ants some artificial sweetener and now they’re arguing about climate change. I really want to talk to the neighbours I’ve ignored for seven years. I shout “Mummy! Mummy!” at a sink full of dishes. It’s my birthday.

The Man Behind The Nothing

I am going to introduce myself and briefly list my achievements.

My name is Dr Naven Naidoo, founder of Boys Against Gym (BAG) and chairman of the Society of Considerate, Understanding Men (S.C.U.M).
I have a PhD in changing the game. I died in 2003.
When the doctor delivered me I didn’t cry like babies do. I only said, “Put me back.”
I am tall, successful and dishonest.
In 2011, I was voted Time magazine’s Christian Of The Year.
My body is just 14 well-coordinated rats piloting a corpse.
My father threw me into a volcano and now I’m back for revenge.
In my spare time, I work at the greatest charity of all: me.
I have a rash that glows in the dark.
The movie Magic Mike is about me.
I was cursed by a gypsy to live for a thousand years, but with this face.
I stopped growing at 12 because I’m afraid of heights.
I was raised on a secret island to become the ultimate fashion icon. I know the truth about girls.
Most people know me as “Hey, stop that!”
For legal reasons, the bank will be a witness at my wedding.
The most endorsements I get on LinkedIn are for losing things and breaking stuff.
I work for a large, sinister organization. They send me on dangerous solo missions, hoping I die in the enchanted forest.
Enemies are everywhere; they do not deter me. Only I can effectively challenge the status quo. It comes at a great personal cost. I haven’t slept since 1996.
I am the first and only man to be given time off work for having Napoleon Complex.
I invented headphones. Before that, people would tape speakers to their head, running long cables between their house and the shop where they work.
My IQ is 1000000.
Please buy my bestselling fragrance: Regretâ„¢ By Naven Naidoo.

I hope this has helped you get to know me.