Day five: Self-isolating with the vacuum cleaner…

I was indoors all day doing those mundane weekly chores that keep the dirt and general domestic chaos at bay, so, come the evening, I was more than ready to PAAAARTY! Only kidding. Nowhere to go.

A quick glance at Google revealed our favourite fish and chip shop was open (takeaways only), phew, so that was our Friday night “out” sorted.  We were back home by eight. Driving home, it was eerie to see all the pubs in darkness and the local co-op’s shelves completely bare under the glaring striplight. This fish-and-chip-run might turn into a regular event. We will no doubt put on weight but at least it will be something to pencil into my diary.

All those things that keep me on balance (just about) and give me reasons to leave the house every day have ceased to exist. Never mind my “Plan B” list for emergencies – there’s no “Plan A” atm! It’s all an emergency. My diary is looking frighteningly blank as, one by one, the events I had pencilled in are being erased.

On a more serious note, I have friends with mental health issues and I’m worried for them. We’re social creatures and pack animals and all this isolation feels unnatural and wrong.

At least I now have more than enough time to tidy out those cupboards that threaten to “blow” every time we open the doors a crack and ours will probably be the best-tweaked and titivated garden in the street.

I’m just praying the garden centres won’t be the next to close…



Author: Hampton Caught

The rants and ramblings of an ex Deputy Fiction Editor of Woman's Weekly magazine.

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