It’s the end of the world as we know it…

What better time than a pandemic induced, government enforced lockdown to start peddling my literary ramblings again!

Time has no meaning, the days blur into one another as we settle into newly created routines; work from home, make snacks, contemplate shaving my head, do some squats, read, stare into the ever deepening abyss.

I was worried being homebound for a long period of time would resurrect dark, desolate feelings from the chemo days or when I broke my leg last summer (a highly amusing story for another day, stay tuned).

But I’m proud of myself for dealing with this in a relatively healthy way, especially as I do not do well when caged. It’s like trying to shove an excitable kitten into one of those cat carriers you take to the vets; it’ll all just end in tears and tetanus.

I’m also checking my privilege on a daily basis; I have a job, a home, resources to keep my flighty brain entertained. I am incredibly lucky, but having life put on hold (again) does make me go a bit wobbly bottom lip. That said, I do know it’s for the greater good – for the many, not the few.


Allowing oneself to feel is important in these unsettlingly dystopian times – ‘Songs I cried to today’, coming to Spotify soon! Including the audiobook ‘conversations with the crow that lands on my patio’. All part of the ‘Descent into madness, 2020 edition’ collection (I’ve named the crow ‘Poe’).

Joking aside, crying on average 4 times a day is preferable to the hollow numbness that can often come with isolation. I’d much rather be tearing up at the sound of a robin chirping outside than falling down a dissociative rabbit hole again. Past brushes with those feelings can make one doubt if one really exists, if in fact they are just a brain in a jar in some mad scientists lab. Better out than in, an apt motto not just applicable to butt toots.

Overall this time to pause is probably good for us ‘burning all the candles at every conceivable end’ millennial types (older millennial, sliding into my mid thirties, watching my jawline disappear).

Slowing down and being in the now, because the now is literally the only thing happening. The normal effervescent planning of holidays and barbecues and festivals has been unceremoniously thrown in the bin. Which is heartbreaking and contributes to one of my four daily cries, but is a small price to pay.

The thing that stings the most is not being able to touch my friends. Not in a creepy way (well, maybe some of them in a creepy way…). I just want to hug my loved ones and tell them face to face that they make life so perfect, so full and so magical.

*Sneakily checks flights to Greece and Vietnam on skyscanner…*

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