How can it only be two weeks since
we were all told to stay inside and the schools closed down?
It feels like
months.
Our previous life of wandering freely and carelessly now feels like a
dream, like someone else’s life.
Remember when we used to nip out to
the pub for a swift one?
Or go out for an impromptu pizza just cos why the fuck not?
Oh, and can you
recall the good old days when we could watch a film at the pictures instead of
on Netflix?
I can.
Of course I can.
But in the same breath, I can’t.
Not really.
This new way of living has quickly
and efficiently become the norm.
I saw a friend and her family out
the car window as we were on the way to the shops.
We pulled over, wound down the
windows and all of us shouted manically out of the car at them from the other side of the
road.
Hollering enthusiastically,
shouting over each other, the four of us desperately tried to have a face-to-face conversation
with people other than our immediate family.
That’s one thing that’s really come
into focus over the last fourteen days.
What a loud family we are.
How we all have an opinion on absolutely everything.
How we all have an opinion on absolutely everything.
And how my
children talk, constantly.
There is noise.
All the time.
Like every waking second.
Not even just waking, it transpires.
The kids also talk in their sleep,
which was a joyous revelation, as everyone has now taken to piling in the same
bed since lockdown.
Before this all happened, I thought
of myself as someone who craved company.
I couldn’t imagine working all week
in solitude. I need to be around people. I need the buzz of conversations. I
need human contact to feel alive.
But I should have been more
specific.
It wasn’t human contact I needed.
It was adult conversation.
What I would give for just two
minutes peace.
I’ve started running.
I’ve turned into that guy.
I’m a fucking cliché and hate
myself a little bit for it.
But this is survival.
I just need the occasional twenty
blissful minutes of uninterrupted, painfully slow jogging, listening to music
other than George Ezra, and allowing my mind to decompress.
I had, on my first ‘run’, started
thinking how this would be a fantastic opportunity to get fit.
To really embrace a new way of
living.
To slip back into my pre-wedding figure,
and emerge from the lockdown as a svelte, younger looking butterfly.
Lockdown was going to be a chance
to launch Anna 2.0.
I now realise how wrong I was.
The occasional jog around the park is counterbalanced with the end of the day thank fuck bottle of wine.
I’m going to roll out of this house, a bloated wineaholic.
But, as we walk past the the
recycling bins in the park for our hour of exercise, I realised I am very much
not alone.
Hang in there, this wasn't anyone's plan, but it's the plan now and we're adaptable, brilliant woman.
We're all over this shit.
Let's just make a pact to not judge anyone's recycling box....
Thank you Anna. Very funny and honest xxxx
ReplyDeleteThanks love, hope you and yours are doing OK xxx
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ReplyDeleteI love you Jeffers. I'll see your bottle of wine and raise you a family size Dairy Milk to add to that mix. Carly xx
ReplyDeleteOh that would be the complete business. Can't think of anything better than stuffing my face and getting pissed with you! xx
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