It’s the morning after the BBC documentary Being Gail Porter had its latest national screening on BBC Two but, marooned in her flat in London, Porter isn’t concerning herself with the public reaction. She has bigger lockdown fish to fry. Her Sky box is broken and, after days of waiting, the repairman has just arrived.
Reconvening later – “I’m so, so sorry about that, what a time for my TV to go on the blink!” – a very chipper Gail admits that she’s been missing her crime drama box sets, before launching into a request for recommendations. “I should maybe watch something more upbeat,” she jokes, telling me that she’d recently considered joining Tinder before her daughter warned her that, knowing her luck, she’d probably end up the subject of a crime drama herself.
TV (and dating) woes aside, Gail’s finding lockdown surprisingly bearable, making the most of social media to keep in constant contact with her friends and family, and running errands for neighbours to maintain her connection to her community. “You do have your bad days. For a lot of people who suffer from depression, I think getting out of bed is the hardest part, particularly at the moment when most of us don’t have jobs to go to.
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