I find it difficult to switch off. To me down time is dead time. I can’t justify the time; it just feels self-indulgent.

I recently went to see the Doctor, I was as surprised as you reader, I forgot we still had those. I was sat in the waiting room, I didn’t have my phone, and I thought, “I feel amazing, this is the best I’ve felt in a long time, I didn’t need a Doctor, I just needed a little sit down!” I’ve started going once a week now, never see the Doctor, I just sit on a high-backed chair and read a two-year-old copy of Bella.

This is why hobbies are so important and as you get older, it gets harder to have them. The real world dominates your life, when you’ve got a bad back, HMRC are on your case, and the tumble dryer is making a weird ticking noise that sounds expensive, you’ve got no room left in the diary for Pilates.  

I used to do a daily Wordle and even that became too much of a commitment. It’s not just doing the Wordle, it’s sharing your achievements on the Whatsapp groups and making your friends feel jealous. No hobby is worth having now if you can’t brag about it. If you don’t use Strava what’s the point in running?

Things were getting out of control; I was lost in the world of Wordle. I stopped washing, I stopped communicating, it dominated my days, at least when you’re doing Cocaine in a nightclub toilet, you’re getting out of the house.  

A jigsaw puzzle would be a great option, but I don’t live in a care home. A jigsaw feels like you’re giving up, you can find as many pieces as you like, but you can’t put your life back together. Start with the corners they say, which is ironic, because you’re in one, and only the sweet release of death can save you.

As a kid I used to love to read. I was like a Yorkshire Matilda, I’d smash through the full box set of Secret Seven in a weekend, and a Dahl a day was easy. Now it’s impossible. I’ve been falling asleep to the same sentence on my kindle now since 2018, I wake up with it laid across my face. Audiobooks are even worse; I’ve gone before the end of the Audible advert.

When you’re a father and a husband in your mid-forties, hobbies seem impossible to maintain. I spend most of my time ferrying my children to their endless quests instead. I’m a driver, I’m doing more miles than Eddie Stobart.

I envy the parents of the darts champion Luke Littler. That’s a hobby I would have loved my kids to do!

I currently spend hours on a Sunday morning, standing on a touchline in a cagoule in the pouring rain, watching my youngest daughter aimlessly kick a football around. I’d give anything to swap that for the snug of the Red Lion! I might even get on the quiz team!

My youngest played the Violin for a while, I encouraged her to do that. She was rubbish at it, I mean the Violin is an instrument that sounds awful even when you’re good at it. Still, I took her every Tuesday without fail. Mainly because the lesson was 45 minutes, and I could sleep in the car outside. They day she quit I was inconsolable.  

My eldest daughter has many hobbies now. She collects cups and bowls from downstairs and stores them under her bed. It’s like an archaeological dig under there. We are down to one bowl, we’re a one bowl family, it’s ridiculous. This morning, I had to eat my Weetabix out of a Wok!

I never realised as a kid how lucky you are. No responsibilities and hours of endless free time. I’d never stop as a kid. Swimming training, football, guitar lessons, drawing, Lego and that was just a Thursday. To be able to focus on yourself like that is so rare, life was one big Centre Parcs holiday, and I never realised how lucky I was.

I used to love playing videogames but that’s an indulgence now. The games are too big, they need hours of your time. I need a game that’s like a moment of intimacy in a long-term marriage, a quick ten-minute blast on the joypad whilst the kids are in bed, get frustrated, feel like giving up but then suddenly, I’ll pull off a special move entirely by accident. The only thing I’ve thankful of is that player two didn’t join in.

My options are limited know. Sports are becoming less appealing. Running knackers my knees, I wish I could have Titanium ones put in like a Terminator. I can’t run without setting off my system. Every route must go via a pub, so I can pretend to be meeting someone, knowing full well I’m striding in wearing full Lycra, only to drop off my tea and then leave.

How can I have a hobby if going out for the evening is a problem. When I was younger the criteria for a night out were very different. It was things like where are we going, where is the afterparty. Now, I just have one requirement, do the chairs have a back? I can’t support my own spine for an evening. When you’re younger you have one-night stands, now I have one night, and I can’t stand.

All my O-Rings have perished too, I’ve not worn beige linen trousers in years, it’s too much of a risk now. When I was younger, I used to urinate, and it would stop, now it just comes back for an endless sequel. It just seems to spread; one small droplet becomes like a map of Africa in seconds. I can’t even go out for a meal now because I’m missing the starters, as I’m in the toilets doing a limbo under the Dyson hand-dryer.

I’m trying to look after myself more, I get providers anxiety, I want to be there for them when they are older. I need to exercise, I need to eat well, but even that is now a problem. I want to look after the kids, so I need to look after me.

Recently I had chest pains, so I went to A and E.

I thought I was having a heart attack, but it was all to do with my digestion. I was sent for an Endoscopy. I was nervous, but I couldn’t be sedated because I was driving home. In the preliminary questions the Nurse asked me about what my gag reflex was like, I didn’t know, but I noticed the doctor winked. It was at that point I thought I’m staying awake for this one!

The Nurse was very good. I remember she said if at any point you want to stop the procedure just raise your hand, she then took that very same hand and pinned it to the bed.

They sprayed some stuff to numb my throat. When the camera went in, I could hear him having a look round, I could see three TV screens all showing the inside of my stomach.

That’s another one for the CV! Forget Live at the Apollo, I can now add Live at the Gall Bladder to my various achievements!

I was given an all clear, gastritis is all it was. Eating a tomato is like having anthrax. So, at least I do have a new hobby now, it’s doing fifty shots of Gaviscon a day.

My wife indulges herself in hobbies. She’s got issues. Every day it’s a new venture, I think she’s too old to be in the brownies, but she seems to be trying to get all the badges. We’ve had clarinets, sewing machines, badge making kits, a ukulele, and her latest idea, a telescope. None of it has been used, but I know why she’s doing this. She’s fighting, she’s not willing to admit defeat. Having these things around her is a reminder that she still is a person, with hopes, aspirations and dreams. There’s still time. One strum on that Ukulele a year is enough to make her feel like she is a kid again.

As I write this, she’s unboxing that telescope, it’ll never be used after tonight. But does it matter? We need these moments of escapism in our lives, you might be a mother of two, with a job and no time for yourself, but if you can set aside one hour a day, to look at the stars, then that’s money well spent.