Covidiot. Iso. The ‘Rona. Zoom. These are just some of the terms, along with ‘social distancing’ and ‘contact tracing’ which have marched unbidden into our lexicon in 2020 – this year of the great pandemic.
And I’ve coined another word. Covidupois. I like to think of it as part French, part medical. It sounds important too.
I’m afraid this word is apropos for me and many of my friends. It’s my term for the weight we’ve all put on during this period of working at home, watching endless hours of Netflix crime series and supine listening to podcasts. And of course trying out new recipes.
I gained my first tranche of Covidupois in the bread-making phase of the pandemic. Remember way back in March when we were all making our own bread? The making was fine. As was the posting of the golden-crusted goodness on facebook. Friends were jealous of our culinary skills. It made us feel good.
But it was the subsequent eating of those luscious loaves, straight from the oven and lathered with jam (home-made of course) that stacked on the Covidupois.
And so now I look down fondly on my very own little bread basket, nestling just under my already spreading waistline.
Having to limit our socializing and retail therapy has had unforeseen consequences. We’ve been forced to seek comfort in our homes. And for me that means comfort food. Oh yes, I planted that veggie garden and it’s going gangbusters. Thanks for asking. But there’s only so many Asian greens a person can eat. Greens simply can’t fill the void caused by this anti-social virus.
I attribute my second tranche of covidupois to becoming ever more sedentary and bored. Feeling bored? Have some dips and biscuits.
My other downfall has been the copious cups of tea in front of the telly accompanied by the odd (and the even if I’m honest) chocolate biscuit. I have languidly grazed my way through the pandemic like a contented cow in a fattening field. In my mind, I’ve justified this piling on of Covidupois as an insurance policy against the famine to come. Er … what famine?
Then there’s the increased screen time on streaming platforms, making the sedentary lifestyle complete. Zooming with family? That’s a time for wine and cheese. Perhaps it’s just me and my nearest and dearest, but the longer these family sessions go on, the more wine is needed.
Face-timing and doing cryptic crosswords with my darling daughter locked down in Melbourne? This calls for more substantial sustenance. We’ve settled in for the long haul (and that thirteen letter word at twenty down has really got us rattled) so it’s hash browns and beer, possibly followed by mini drumsticks (the icecreams, not the chook) and left-over lasagna.
My increased Covidupois has got me Covid-anxious. How am I going to get rid of this weight, now that we can see the light at the end of the Corona Virus tunnel? (Well you would be able to see the light if my increasingly corpulent body wasn’t in the way).
I’ve gone back to the pool for laps and I’m trying to ride my bike when I can. But I really need to stop this continual comfort food grazing cycle I’ve created.
It’s time for me to stop being such a Covidiotic couch potato! Time to put those chocolate biscuits in ‘iso’, and socially distance myself from the chardonnay.
Yes. It’s time to bid a fond farewell to my Covidupois. Wish me luck.