Ashlee Simpson, one of the finest American pop singers to emerge from the noughties, once sang: "On a Monday I am waiting, Tuesday I am fading, and by Wednesday I can't sleep."
Well, that's exactly how I felt during the first few days of Singapore's circuit breaker period - moody, restless and oh-so-thirsty for human interaction.
Everyone talks about staying safe and healthy during this lockdown, but what about staying sane?
I am all for being socially responsible, yet, for a chronic mingler like myself, being stuck at home without a social life is akin to psychological torture.
A part of me yearned to be like Cocorita - the white mare who decided that, like Freddie Mercury, she wanted to break free from her paddock and gallop around Bukit Timah.
Netflix, naturally, has been a godsend for killing time, but alas! The latest RuPaul's Drag Race episodes come out just once a week, and there are only so many times I can rewatch Joe Exotic and Carole Baskin duking it out on Tiger King.
So imagine my glee when a friend introduced me to Quan Min Party, a karaoke app where users enter virtual rooms and sing with anyone around the world.
Loosely translated as All People Party, the app also lets you chat with one another and shower your favourite singers with gifts, like applause and roses, so they can live out their superstar dreams.
There is even a Player Kill or PK mode, where you challenge other players to sing-offs and "snatch" songs from each other. Winning these challenges will earn you beans - the app's currency for redeeming gifts for your fellow singers.
Gifting, in return, gains you experience points that promote you to higher levels.
Someone definitely took the time to fashion this mind-boggling ecosystem, but just think of it as a social media app with interactive singing and all that intimidation fades away.
There's no doubt that I'm there for the live music, partly.
Before bars and entertainment outlets were closed for the sake of safe distancing, you could probably find me at a neighbourhood KTV pub every weekend with a microphone, some dice, playing cards and a couple of beer towers.
But being cooped up at home has made me realise what I miss the most - sharing these moments with friends.
In a way, this karaoke app allows me to recreate a similar atmosphere of bonding over catchy tunes and like-minded company.
Much like Zoom and Houseparty, you get to spend quality online time with family and friends.
People are simply there to enjoy themselves and sing away their blues - be it cabin fever, a lousy work-from-home day or, because of the recent ban on social gatherings, being separated from a loved one.
Making new friends is another perk. I have bonded with several strangers - from a Singaporean woman who chuckles at herself for going off pitch, to a guy from Sarawak with vocal runs that would make Jennifer Hudson hurl her shoe.
And, of course, you have your usual KTV suspects, whose stellar song covers of Jay Chou and Stefanie Sun raise goosebumps.
Sure, this is not a perfect app by any means. The Chinese-language interface can prove challenging for many and technical glitches occur from time to time.
Yet I can't help being addicted.
Perhaps, like Dua Lipa and Martin Garrix, I'm just scared to be lonely.
In such uncertain times, when a deadly pandemic forces us to confront our mortality and relationships, it is easy to feel isolated and helpless.
Apart from the hard work of our healthcare workers, our camaraderie and mutual emotional support can go a long way in tiding us through this bleak period.
On Quan Min Party the other night, a friend who lives in Adelaide sang Kit Chan's Home to a room full of Singaporeans.
"I miss you guys," he typed in the group chat, dedicating the song to us. "First thing I'm doing when this whole Covid thing is over is hop on a flight back home."
This, as with many other moments on the app, brought a smile to my face. It made me think of relatives, friends and even strangers living in other countries - how we may all be so far apart, but somehow, united in our fight against this virus.
Suddenly, things did not feel so lonely anymore.
There is no guarantee when Covid-19 will make itself scarce.
But perhaps one of the best things we can do, on top of social distancing and washing our hands, is to live it up and let the virus know that it was never invited to the party.
Create new online occasions to make the days seem shorter. Give each other something to cherish and cheer about.
This could be a hot yoga session, a new TikTok dance challenge, or simply a song that makes us look forward to being in the same room some day soon.
Until then, this is how I plan on surviving the circuit breaker: belting out tunes with my newfound karaoke kakis and seeking solace in our solidarity - one song at a time.
