I was at the IGA during the week, to pick up something that could have been a Nick O'Leary rosé (buy local) and I noticed a young dad with two very young toddlers in tow. You know when they're at that age when they're walking and you think they're kind of independent but really, any minute now, right now, they're about to run out into the car park into the way of that big SUV with the reversing camera and all the safety features.

He made it out of the car park unscathed and crept up behind me - maintain the 1.5 metres people - as we hit the swinging gate thing, right at the liquor department. I expected him to veer left and head off to buy something his wife had sent him to buy, toilet paper, god help him, or dishwasher tablets or something, but no, he followed me into the liquor aisle.

As an aside, I love the word liquor. There's something old worlde about it. On occasion I'd rather believe we're the exotic individuals enjoying some liquor, rather than lushes looking for $8 bottles of wine.

His pesky children (sorry I've been working from home in isolation all week, and everyone is pesky) were crying and carrying on. Like how hard is it when we're on a video call for work to actually tell your kids to shut up and do not come into the home office cum dining room. (I remember once, years ago, when my own perfect children were a little pesky, interviewing Anthony from The Wiggles, and we thought it hilarious when we realised we had both plonked our kids in front of Wiggly Safari to do the interview. Look ,it's dad!) It's possible people.

Where was I ... so this dad was following me (1.5m, people) and I turned around and said, "Day 3". That's all I had to say, and I could see him wither right there on the linoleum floor of the IGA.

Have we not all realised we're in this for the long haul? Till the end of the year, the powers that be are telling us. Or at least that's what I've ascertained from the convoluted and confusing late night pressers our Prime Minister has been having. Holding them that late in the hope that our brains are frazzled from watching the last few episodes of Married at First Sight and we're too hazy to know whether to write stay (at home) or leave (and go to work).

It's early days, people. Let's not peak too early. I've seen friends list all the activities they were doing last weekend. A Sunday. Not even a school day. And I'm thinking I wasn't that organised ever, one thing a day. Come on kids, we're going to Woollies at Dickson and we're not allowed to touch anything with our bare hands.

Mind you, some due credit to everyone with small children, but I don't know what would be worse. Having to listen to the Frozen 2 soundtrack one more time, or having to bluff your way through calculus.

Let's all see how we come out the other side. And there will be another side. We have no idea what that will look like but believe in it.

Here's a few things I've been doing this week to distract myself.

Watching: The Last Man on Earth on SBS on Demand. Hilarious. A little too close to home. But what would you do if a virus struck and by 2020 you were the only person left on Earth? Think about it. We'd all lay shit on Tom Hanks - and what perfect irony - and his volleyballs, until it was our time to round up some company. And imagine being able to live wherever you wanted to live. The White House, Cher's house, your childhood house. And do whatever you want. Watch it. We all need a laugh.

Listening: Have been a fan of The Rewatchables podcast for a while but they've outdone themselves in the past few weeks. A podcast from the US where they look back at films deemed rewatchable. They've done Contagion and Castaway recently, given what's going on. But this week I loved their take on Tom Cruise's Edge of Tomorrow. Give it a whirl.

Cooking: As you may have ascertained, cooking has grounded me this week. Follow me on Instagram @karenhardyCT to see what's landed on the table after a long day of confusion. I truly believe it's in times like these when we need to gather our loved ones around the table and feed them. In the literal and spiritual sense.