A day during lockdown was unlike any other day. Parents were forced to home-school their children while trying to work from home themselves (even from the dining room table). Leadership teams had to grapple with ever-changing rules, quickly discerning what each new provision meant for their business and staff. Everyone else had to follow along, coping as best they could with state-imposed restrictions and, in many cases, isolation.

6am

(Or earlier. Who can remember? Suffice to say, it was early.) I am woken generally by either the four-year-old jumping on the bed or the six-year-old yelling at me for something she wants. Thankfully, the one-year-old sleeps a teeny bit longer.

6.30am

The computer goes on as soon as I am awake and out of bed. While preparing breakfast, I quickly check emails – the workday begins! My husband and I try to divide and conquer, based on our scheduled meetings for the day. He is on call for the kids’ demands when I am in meetings and vice versa. Unluckily for him during this period, I have a lot of online meetings.

8.30am

Set up the kids’ devices and links for their online classroom, which starts at 9am. By year two of COVID lockdowns, we have two children to home school. Every day, without fail, there is a fight between the kids about who gets which device and where they are set up.

9am

Online class. I really feel for the teachers. I can hear them trying to control the students and it is truly comical. Every single day between 9 and 9.30am at least one of the two kids (more often than not, both of them) want food delivered to them while in their online class.

10.30am

Kids are meant to complete their schoolwork. 

12.30pm

By now, my Senior Management Team meeting is generally finished and my husband needs some help with the kids. We live right next door to an oval and playground. We head there, while the playground remains open, although for the most part it’s a no-go zone – too many germs, as declared by the government. So, we play tennis in our driveway and run around the oval for an hour or so – kicking the footy and riding our bikes (a great purchase during COVID).

 STOP WHATEVER IS HAPPENING TO WATCH THE LATEST COVID NEWS CONFERENCE.

This happens at any time of the day, but generally we all gather around the TV to listen to Victoria’s Chief Health Officer and the Premier. It’s the highlight of the day (or sometimes the lowlight, if we find our ‘two-week’ lockdown is now six).

The other highlight is my daily trip to Coles (the rule is one trip a day and only one adult per household. It’s a welcome relief to sneak out of the house on your own for a while).

Of course, this doesn’t apply when we all end up in ‘iso’ for 14 days (in fact, on two occasions) because one of us is considered a close contact of someone who has COVID. Instead, we rely on supermarket deliveries and kind friends and neighbours, who deliver us food and activities, while the kids go extra batty.

2pm

A team meeting in the afternoon and I need some quiet, but the kids won’t have it. I sit in the car for meetings, lock myself in the bathroom or try to hide outside in the backyard. Somehow though, they always find me. Locked in the bathroom on Zoom? Two little sets of fingers appear through the window behind me. They are relentless.

3pm

Our cars become a play centre. The one-year-old loves to pretend to drive. The other two are likely to be doing something to destroy the house. (Post-COVID, every flyscreen is broken. We have holes in the ceiling after a Tarzan-inspired curtain swing went wrong and most air conditioning vents have been destroyed … the list goes on.) Might pop over to the supermarket with the one-year-old to escape the chaos.

5pm

Time for a walk, using my one hour of government-permitted daily exercise time. I see a lot of my local area during these years, as we aren’t allowed to venture further than five kilometres from home. Had I not gone to the supermarket earlier, I would pop in now.

6pm

The children’s dinner time, then bath. Maybe some TV watching. TV becomes a good friend – a habit that becomes hard to break after the pandemic.

8pm

Start the kids’ bedtime routine. This can take anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and a half. They have too much energy after days, weeks, months, years of doing, well, not much at all. 

9.30pm

The kids are asleep and the computer is back on for more work before bedtime, as I try to make up for the lost time wrangling children during the day. 

Rinse and repeat for two years.

5.50am

The alarm sounds. I let the dog out and change into gym gear, fire up the iPad and log into the Zoom fitness session. Trainer Dave is on screen, as are the six or eight other regulars. I flop and jump around on the carpet in the semi-dark of the lounge room, responding to prompts from Dave (‘All the way down on the push-ups, Ken’). We finish up 45 minutes later with a bit of banter between us. It’s not the same as face-to-face sessions, but an important kickstart to the day.

7am

Masked up, Carole and I head out for our permitted walk with Banjo to The Kiosk, our lockdown-preferred coffee shop (image 1). We queue, distancing from others. We enjoy a quick chat with those in line, including the Treasurer, before taking off for our walk – mask-free, as we enjoy our coffees – past the closed beach (image 2). We stop and chat with friends and neighbours. Paradoxically, lockdown has grown our relationships with others in the community.

8.30am

I settle into my home office, Carole down the corridor in hers. See you at lunch time! Emails, emails, emails. A quick chat with Leonie in Res Coll – how is the supply of toilet paper? Running low, it could be a problem.

9.30am

Time for the daily Senior Management Team meeting by Zoom (‘You’re on mute!’), one of more than 140 in 2020 (image 3). Always a lot to deal with – how is the transition to online teaching going in the Pathways School? Have we finished mothballing the Swanston and Victoria Street campuses? How are the Res Coll students finding the takeaway meals from the dining hall? How are we going to handle fees for semester 2? When should we start discussing staffing levels?

Lyn Shalless, CFO, provides the updated revenue and expenses report. How are we going with the  JobKeeper application? What more do we need to do to secure the line of credit with the bank, should we need to? How much cash can we access from the Foundation? How is the sale of some of the Royal Parade properties progressing?

11am

I take a break from the meeting to watch the first 10 minutes of the Premier’s daily press conference. What’s this about a ‘ring of steel’? Dan, shed the Northface jacket. (He doesn’t.)

12.30pm

End SMT with, as always, us considering what our communications with staff, students and stakeholders will be.

Emails, emails, emails.

1pm

My weekly Zoom meeting with Board subcommittee. (‘You’re on mute!’) Great discussions ensue, perspicacious questions. Good governance. How is morale among the students? We review umpteenth ‘back of the envelope’ figures for our revised budget. Will we have enough cash? (Yes) What cost controls are we putting in place? (Lots) What do we think will be forward enrolments in Res Coll and Pathways School? (Who knows) Will we be eligible for JobKeeper? (Yes) Should we convene an extraordinary meeting of the College Council? (Yes)

2.30pm

Another Zoom meeting, this time with Kate Elix, Alison Menzies and Lyn Shalless (‘You’re on mute!’), to work on messaging and communications for our all-staff meeting next week. A little face appears on screen next to Kate. (Hi, Max!’) What is the message about College finances? How do we signal likely reductions in numbers of staff? What is the timeframe we anticipate? How is this unpleasant message best delivered in a video conference?

3pm

An extraordinary meeting of the Board of Zoos Victoria discusses funding to support essential operations during the closure of all three zoos. On a lighter note, I watch a viral video of the dancing zookeeper.

3.30pm

Essential office and work-from-home supplies are delivered – a new desk chair and two boxes of wine.

4pm

The twice-weekly Zoom meeting of the Heads of Colleges with Deputy Vice-Chancellor – Academic kicks off. (‘You’re on mute!’) After the DVC leaves the meeting, we debrief on situations in each of the Colleges around the Crescent. It’s a really important mutual support mechanism; a wonderful group of Heads and great colleagues.

5pm

Emails, emails, emails.

6.30pm

I reconnect with Carole as she cooks dinner, and enjoy a glass of wine. Check in by phone with daughter Alex. How was your day working in ICU? Any COVID patients?

8pm

We Zoom with friends while we all eat dinner – no one is on mute – before watching the next episode of Billions or Succession or Outlander or …. whatever is on.
Second glass of wine.

9.30pm

The phone rings. It’s Leonie. Oh no, what now? Twenty-four Res Coll students have been found ‘gathering’ in one small room, against all lockdown and College rules. Are they safe and OK? What should we do? Let’s discuss in the morning. This needs a third glass of wine.

10pm

Check for late-night emails. Wrap up the day. As for tomorrow? Probably more of the same.