So I was supposed to be going off to a quaint as fuck Tasmanian bed and breakfast a week from now, but what with everything that’s going on right now, it looks like I’ve got a bit of a stay-cation on my hands.

And, look, that’s fine by me.

I mean, staying five nights in a bed and breakfast by myself was me dabbling in a bit of social isolating before it become cool/a public health initiative. I was planning on checking out a few things, but I was mostly just looking forward to reading, drinking tea and sipping on wine.

Which is definitely something I can do at home.

And I’m pretty lucky: the house I live in has two decks and a big old backyard with a pergola that I’m sitting under now as I write this very blog post. Even though it’s relatively new-looking, it does have a lot of charm. There’s a whole lotta garden I can lounge in, looking all wistful. I’ve got a pretty good set up here.

When I’m not looking at my newsfeed, I’m filled with a sense of calm at my being a bit of a pre-pandemic hoarder. As an anxious person who keeps an eye on specials, I tend to always have a few spare essentials on hand. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there are things I strategically invested in as the situation unfolded (see the first and second items on this list) but there’s a lot of stuff I just kinda… had which will really come in handy now that I’m holidaying at home.

Here’s a list of things that is making me feel calm about the prospect of self-isolation:

A four-litre box of red wine: This is for when supplies are really, really low. But then, let’s be honest, I’m expecting to find this just as drinkable as the more socially-acceptable bottled wine I have in my hosue. I generally tend to drink my red wine with ice and this dilutes the nectary liquid by quite a bit, altering the taste and the potency slightly. So even when I do get down to the backup supply, I fully expect to be in quite a comfortable position. But grabbing this box did prompt a bit of self-reflection, I must say. Exactly 10 years ago, I would have bought a box of Fruity Lexia just to have on-hand in case of a layback emergency. Now, a decade on, I am back to buying boxed wine. Am I really that different to Last-Decade Dannielle? Have I come so far that I’ve gone fill circle? Should I start listening to LMFAO again? Really makes ya think.

Four new novels I added to the aggressive pile of books I have been meaning to read: I think this right here is an example of panic buying. I had 13 books in the pile before this whole virus thing exploded. It has been leering at me for months, giving me the metaphorical stink eye for ignoring it. It is silently judging me for watching TV or scrolling on my phone instead of filling my empty head with word. It taunts me. There would easily be two months’ worth of intensive reading in that pile and, yet, I still felt I needed more. But, to be fair, I’m pretty happy with my choices. I went with:

• Normal People by Sally Rooney
• Boy Swallows Universeby Trent Dalton
• NorthangerAbby by Jane Austen
• Lady Susanby Jane Austen

Mulled-wine-flavoured tea: This is going to be great for when I want to be drinking wine but probably shouldn’t. I can drink it hot or I could brew it, put it on ice and pretend to be having a sangria jug in a holiday location.

Drips and drabs of kooky flours: I usually have two to three half-opened bags of alternative flours to trick myself into thinking that I’m being healthy. You know, spelt, rye, wholemeal – real whacky kind of stuff. I’m pretty keen to turn this flour into unnecessary baked goods I pretend to love at first but quickly grow to resent and eat only out of spite.

A bag of chicken chippies: These were on special about a fortnight ago, so I obviously bought a jumbo bag of them. I’m not an idiot.

Three generic puzzles and a custom puzzle of my brother-in-law drinking wine: The three generic puzzles came to me after my parents’ cleaned out my Grandma’s house after she died. Grandma loved her puzzles and had a decent store of them in her house. If only she’d have lived to have seen them become so damn popular. The puzzle of my brother in law was perhaps one of the greatest Christmas presents I’ve received. It’s exactly the kind of weird and unnerving I want to be leaning into while holidaying alone in my own house and going nowhere.

Oil paints, paper, and brushes: The art supplies shop was having a 50 per cent off sale a few weeks ago and I decided that now was the time to give oil painting a crack. The idea is to produce a body of work that documents my descent into madness and make so much money from my isolation that I no longer have to work again and can afford to retreat to soul-crushing solitude full time.

An obnoxiously-loud typewriter: This is obviously going to be used to write my great Australian novel, which will no doubt spew out of me in three days, giving me enough time for painting my mental instability, staring at the ceiling and obsessively cleaning all the glass surfaces in the house. The only problem is that I’ve only got one sheet of A4 printing paper, so I’m going to have to write my entire novel on the same page and hope that people will be able to tell which layer is which. I suppose I could order an emergency ream to be delivered to my door, but I do kind of like the idea of writing a masterpiece that is completely illegible.

My long history of not watching shows other people have watched:Because I prefer to waste my time by scrolling through my phone or re-watching familiar series instead of keeping up with the current trends, there’s many, many things I could be watching during my time alone. I like to think I’ll start with The West Wingand Cheer, but I’ll probably end up watching 72 hours of House Huntersinstead.