I'VE been pretty happy with my pandemic battle plan.
Through sporadic stretches in the trenches, I've had time to work out which weapons will give me the best chance of making it to the other side of COVID with my physical and mental health intact.
My survival kit has evolved. The opening months of my COVID campaign were marked by chaotic sorties to the shops for chocolate, frozen vegies and red wine.
There were also regular Zoom meetings to check on my allies. I think the world has realised that a good round of raucous online banter with your mates is a far better morale-booster than being invited by some celebrity to watch their morning cleansing routine or a tutorial on how to make a smoothie from kitchen staples such as kale, red matcha powder and Madagascan cocoa nibs.
More recently, I've embarked on strategic pushes into unfamiliar territory such as office furniture bunkers, and I signed up for short, yet effective, online yoga bootcamps. There have also been special buys to "enhance my home office experience".
These include pot plants and two work stations (floor cushions) for my four-legged colleagues.
But, as time goes on, my favourite weapon by far is something that I've always had but largely ignored: the mute button on the TV remote. This magic little button has really come into its own over the past few weeks. Through my regular engagement with it, I have kept my blood pressure in check and avoided a trip to casualty to extract shards of TV screen from my foot.
Like Frank Costanza, I've got a lot of problems with some people. Mainly the Queensland Premier and certain Aussie cricketers.
Annastacia Palaszczuk does my head in. I've tried to hear her out, but I've given up. Her obsession with bagging out NSW is intolerable. I'm not even talking about her smirking press conferences about State of Origin (the games could be played in a Tasmanian backyard and I wouldn't notice).
There's been plenty of other consistent carry on from Palaszczuk, including her deep suspicion about anyone from NSW who wants to enter the Sunshine State.
She also clearly loves baiting NSW counterpart Gladys Berejiklian,but it's become so ridiculous that she sounds like an obnoxious school kid yelling insults from a bus.
MUTE..MUTE..MUTE. All is calm.
Meanwhile, over on my other hot-button channel are those Australian cricketers who found themselves "stranded" in India.
With the use of the magic button I've skilfully managed my exposure to any details regarding these excruciating whiners.
But, I was caught out the other night when the TV news was interrupted by the "breaking story" that our brave cricket soldiers were back on home soil after their terrible ordeal, which involved a stopover in the Maldives.
Just writing this has caused a vein in my neck to twitch.
I've just had to mute myself.
Survival, self-preservation, call it what you want. I'm getting good at dodging bullets.
