You’re bored: X number of things to do in lockdown.

Coronavirus, stay inside, wash your hands until you can see wet meat glistening around your bones. You know the drill.

Aside from the dizzy heights of routine hand sanitation, it’s getting pretty dull and pretty cramped. You’re bored. I don’t know how, but here you are. I’d say go outside, but… So, what should you do to while away the hours? Read listicles on the internet. Duh.

  • Find a voice recording device. Start a log of your time under lockdown. Speak only in excessively gravelly noir tones, as if you’ve been gargling paint thinner in a cigar for 30 years.
  • Make a list of projects to embark on while you have all of this time.
  • Make a list of research about various things you’re fascinated by, to do while you have all of this time.
  • Make a list of books to read while you have all this time.
  • Tart up your CV while you have the opportunity.
  • Learn to play a card game you’ve never actually had the time to before.
  • Your manager has organised a meeting over Zoom or Skype or whatever. Buy a camera if you don’t have one. Show up naked. Assert dominance. Piss on the camera.
  • Get drunk.
  • Now is a rare opportunity to really get to know yourself. Hold naked philosophical conversations with yourself, out loud, in front of the largest available mirror.
  • Fail to start on any of the projects you said you would while you have all of this time.
  • Fail to do any of the of research about various things you’re interested in while you have all of this time.
  • Fail to read any of the books you wanted to read while you have all this time.
  • Rub the last of your cocaine into your genitals. Be comfortably numb.
  • Learn some card tricks. So you can be that guy at the next party you go to.
  • Argue with your flatmates/lover.
  • Abandon basic hygiene. This is a rare opportunity to reconnect with the lost primitive parts of your psyche. Now is the time to stew in your own juices.
  • Have an existential crisis when you realise you have more or less zero self-discipline.
  • Omigawd plague selfies @ muh instabook!1!! Shit into a puddle of your own vomit and share it. Spend money promoting it.
  • Masturbate furiously.
  • Scream at something on your computer.
  • Experiment with Ayahausca.
  • Watch all of the cat videos. Move onto dog videos.
  • Make an attempt to rectify your lack of discipline. Start with a list of things you’d like to do.
  • Make another list.
  • Make even more lists.
  • Make a list of lists.
  • Realise you’ve fallen into a recursive list spiral and give up. Accept that some people are just meant to exist as sentient potato sacks.
  • Now is the opportunity for sexual experimentation and self-discovery. For lack of a (willing) partner, leather, and a riding crop, put a dog collar on and beat the shit out of yourself with a ruler.
  • Belt out the theme to Trapdoor at the top of your lungs at 10 AM. Do it every single day. Do not stop after the quarantine is over.
  • Paint your face. Do not wash the paint off for at least three days.
  • Turn off your phone. Unplug your landline if you have one.
  • Shut yourself in a confined space, such as a wardrobe or cupboard. Do not leave for several hours.
  • Drag your face across the longest available wall. This will prepare you for the harsh days ahead.
  • Draft and rehearse your own musical. Now is the time for a 21st Century equivalent to Les Miserables.
  • Turn everything off. Sit in the dark. Listen.
  • Converse with your leeches.
  • Watch the stock markets have an aneurysm. Welcome to the newest edition to comedy.
  • Get drunk.
  • Swagger about your apartment in an accentuated manner. If you live with other people and you come across them, challenge them to a fistfight. How much can you know about your flatmates if you’ve never punched them in the face? Hemmingway would be proud.
  • Write an obnoxious lacklustre listicle.
  • Gnaw the end of your desk/table/kitchen counter.
  • Paint a self-portrait.
  • Hit the portrait with a fucking pickaxe.
  • Paint a portrait of someone you love dearly.
  • Hit the portrait with a fucking pickaxe.
  • Write a to-do list. Burn it.
  • Clean your flat. Seriously. It’s a fucking mess.
  • Do you take selfies? Print them out. Burn them.
  • Make a playlist of music you loved as a teenager, listen and realise how fucking abysmal your taste was.
  • What does your perfect self look like? Write it down. Burn it.
  • Create something.

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