CRRRaSh! 306 Virus Diary

By Roy Mathur, on 2020-03-29, at 23:59:59 GMT--00:36:58 BST, for Captain Roy's Rocket Radio Show, Listen


Bloody cold, but sunny. Sod the weather, let's do the show.

Sunday 2020-03-22

Previously.... "I went to bed exhausted and cranky from the extra work involved from sharing a house and because I'm a highly strung geek. I was supposed to play Civilisation 5 on Sunday morning, but screw that... It would have been a miracle if I woke up before twelve." And I actually woke at around eleven on Sunday morning, but was as tired as when I went to sleep.

I made Mum a WhatsApp Happy Mothers Day card and, with my help, treated herself to Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. (She's the brains of the outfit, so she's been rather busy with Dad and elder life in general, which means she's been missing out on culture, pop culture, the whole Zeitgeist shebang in fact. She's catching up though and has made enquiring noises about The Mandalorian).


That was the day I shopped around for a few much needed supplies and recorded my progress in episode 304

It was also the day I ate a rather nice curry. Yum.


The day Sports Direct's Mike Ashley socially screwed himself, claiming his shops Sports Direct and Evans were a vital service and should stay open. He apologised on the 27th and later pledged his transport fleet to help the NHS.

Those UK government emergency SMSs I had previously complained about not getting finally came through.


I tweeted a lot about nothing and spammed with pointers to previous podcast episodes.

I'm also getting a lot less dialogue on Twitter. I'm a bad Twitterista.


I felt a little off---probably a cold or allergies, but I've elderly parents so I stayed in my room. In the past I've been just a bit the germophobic hypochondriac. Now? Dunno. I'm their wheels so I hoped I was okay to take them shopping the next day.

According to the NHS site, I decided I was probably okay (fingers crossed).

I watched the Picard finale---what a cop out! The RPi (my set top media player) played up, but I managed to fix it.


I took my parents to the special seniors-only scheduled shopping session at Sainsbury's. There were a few shortages, but it wasn't terrible. They didn't get croissants (the humanity!) and Dad man-shopped a few of the wrong things. Despite daily and repeated warnings from us, he also couldn't grasp the distance rule (he can now) leading to a few minor in-store staff and customer panics. We'll leave him at home in future. Outside, annoyingly, some younger people, without the excuse of age, were equally incapable of understanding the distance rule. The car park was freezing for the poor driver (i.e. me waiting for 1.5 hours). My toes took a few hours to thaw when we returned home.

Remember I said HMRC would not be able to handle the added pressure of helping businesses through the crisis? I can't comment on that aspect, but a different section dealing with shipping really pulled their finger out and dealt with our query on the spot. Thanks to that particular member of staff at HMRC.


I spent a lazy day recovering from cold, busy, and tiring Friday. Another reason I felt so buggered was that I don't do too well in extremely dry environments, like a house with the heating on too much because the weather has is cold. My sinuses were hurting and my nostrils dried up and bled. So much for the romantic notion that my ancestors were desert dwelling dacoits of the dunes. Also I seem to have an ear infection; from the soreness, occasional mild tinnitus and blocked outer passages.

I also remember how grating it was to hear Mum and Dad boxsetting a wedding planning show in the room next to the studio while I was writing show notes. I am the least macho manly man you will ever meet, but even I had my limit of listening to that boring reality TV drivel on the box. And that is what happens when people with very different tastes share a home. Be strong Roy, be strong.

Sunday 2020-03-29

I was so, so, so tired. I woke for breakfast, then went back to bed for half the day.

The reason I was tired is that I went to bed too early, then spent the rest of the night up. I was productive. I replied and re-replied to many people on Twitter going back to 2011. Why? Because I am a madman.

Of note, is that I shaved my #quarantinebeard... and garnered zero reactions.

Which brings me to... you know how the news services are full of chirpy reporters banging on about how isolation isn't so bad because they are video conferencing with family and friends? Well, we're not a popular family, and have very few family, friends, or a social network with which we can maintain a regular, or even irregular social connection. Why is that? Small family, lack of many or nearby relatives, we've moved so often we haven't made lasting connections, and neither are we in any clubs or societies. So, without the ability to occasionally just lose yourself in a crowd of strangers, this forced lockdown is more unpleasant for us than many. (I will also take this opportunity to say that all who recently failed to turn up to a virtual meet-up I arranged can go #### themselves---I really need to meet new people). The thing is there are people with even less connections than us, either through age, ill health, or cultural separation, and this crisis can't be great for them. So much for community spirit. The one thing I have in my favour is that even before the crisis I was, not through lack of trying, already pretty isolated, so I'm used to living like this. Boo hoo. I tell though, once this is over, I'm going to be buzzing around like a blue arsed fly making the most of life. See? Self-reflection is not all gloom and doom. Stick that up your CBT Macsessions.

Tourette's... let's talk about that thing that I have. The not touching your face rule has been a huge pain for me because touching my face is one of my OCD compulsions. (OCD is a common associated condition called a co-morbidity, like ADHD, that comes as a free bonus together with Tourette's). Touching other things too is another compulsions... you've seen Monk right? Luckily I'm also a little bit of an OCD germophobe and that outweighs the former behaviour. The germophobia kicks in to prevent me reaching for potentially infected objects or, if I'm infected (and I don't think I am), transferring my own filthy spore to another surface.


That's it. Take care out there. We'll get though this.

If you have anything you want to get off your chest, drop me a line---contact details up in a mo. Signing off for now.