And all of a sudden, the Covid blues hit me. For all the months spent keeping myself busy, positive and grateful, in the last couple of weeks I’ve fallen into a pretty dark pit of despair driven by the boredom and monotony of my current existence. I know I’m fortunate to have a roof over my head, a loving family (who are now mostly vaccinated,) a dog to give me cuddles and enough money coming in to comfortably pay my bills, but that doesn’t mean the situation we’ve been facing for almost a year hasn’t finally gotten on top of me. I’m fed up.
Fed up of spending pretty much every moment of the last few months in one of four rooms in my house; fed up of not being able to drop in on my family or see my mates for lunch; fed up of walking past pubs and restaurants and craving food and drink that hasn’t been prepared in my own kitchen; fed up of online shopping for clothes I have nowhere to wear; fed up of everything I’ve had in my diary being slowly cancelled or postponed once again.
So, June 21st. I’m ready for you. Like I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.
I don’t need the fancy holidays or big parties to look forward to – a Friday night drinking cocktails with a couple of my girlfriends would suffice. Just a reason to get dressed up and feel like ‘me’ again, after the last six months have been spent predominantly in stretchy loungewear that’s inevitably covered in muddy paw prints. Because I miss spending an hour doing the same hair and makeup that would take me ten minutes on any other occasion, I miss accessorising and I miss tottering about in high heels for the few minutes it takes to stride from door to car to car to booth.
The last twelve months have been tough for all of us, in many different ways, but the last few months have definitely made me feel more helpless and alone than I’ve ever felt in my life. I’ve wanted to be there for my family members who’ve been experiencing some hard hitting moments, and I’ve wanted them to be there for me too – but forced apart by a virus that takes no prisoners, we’ll just have to wait until Boris says some semblance of normal life can resume.
Because will we ever be the same again after this?
I’m worried I’ll forget how to be social, or find myself exhausted by human contact after a night amongst more than six people. I’m worried that we’ll all have health anxiety and will find it hard to do the most menial tasks that we before took for granted. I’m worried that my business will never fully recover, I’m worried that I won’t enjoy being in our capital city like I once did, and I’m worried that we’ll keep making excuses to not get on a plane.
We’re all grieving for the life we once led and the carefree attitude to life we once held, but with June 21st there’s the beacon of hope in front of us – that in theory life will return to ‘normal’ even if it takes a lot longer for us to find ourselves and our sense of balance once again.
So no matter what lays ahead of us, a nice dress and a G&T is a good place to start. See you there?
SHOP THE LOOK
Pictures taken in December just before we went from Tier 2 to 3 (and then 4!) and I managed to squeeze in a birthday meal.