The 2020+

Finally. It’s 31/12/2020. Though I know tomorrow isn’t going to prompt any miraculous change to my life circumstances, there is a sense of relief, and hope, that I am escaping the bleak, relentless monotony of 2020, and moving into another year that has the potential to be different. To be better. Surely, it’s going to be better.

That being said, there have been positives in 2020 and in true end-of-year style, I thought it worthwhile reflecting on the 2020+.

The last time I blogged, I had just spent two weeks in Scotland, and I had three more ahead of me. This was the height of summer, when life seemed that little bit more normal. That period was undoubtedly the highlight of 2020, and an opportunity that just wouldn’t have presented itself in an ordinary year. It has also left me wondering, “Could I permanently relocate to Scotland, whilst holding on to my full-time London-“based” job?”

The memories of that summer also helped to console the disappointment of not being able to return to Scotland this Christmas – never have I felt the disadvantage of living at the opposite end of the country from my family quite so much. Having said that, it’s taken 2020 for me to fully appreciate the benefits of having my brother live in the same city as me. We’re not a family that ordinarily communicates that much but this year has changed that, with my brother and I scheduling regular meet-ups in the green spaces of central London, including on Christmas Day, and my immediate family chatting in bimonthly virtual calls, months after the initial shock of the pandemic caused us to start the trend.

My Brixton abode has been through a lot of changes, with both of my flatmates moving on and moving out, and two new flatmates moving in. Whilst my base has remained the same, my every-day company has changed, and with it, my experience of home. My birthday was very much in the height of the first lockdown, back in April. Despite that, I have such positive memories, thanks to the efforts of Andy and David (as well as friends across the world) embracing my random requests for the day. Similarly with Christmas, though it wasn’t the Scottish celebration and break I was needing, it’s given stranger-now-flatmate-now-friend Susie and I one of those once-in-a-lifetime bonding memories. We’re also now experts at Christmas Dinner FYI.

WFH has been the biggest challenge for me this year, but in-keeping with this blog post, there have been some positives. Sure, I’m working more hours, socialising less, exercising less, and living in one confined space all day, every day. But my productivity has increased. My quantity of sleep has increased (fortunately, my sleep issues passed after lockdown 1.0). My income has increased, through lack of commute and doing much-of-anything. I weirdly feel that I’ve become closer to my colleagues-cum-friends who live in the vicinity because we’ve relied on each other more for interaction. Thanks to work, I’ve gained a legit desk chair and an HDMI cable which has come in very handy when connecting tennis/Netflix to the TV. I guess more broadly, this year has proved that WFH is a legit way to work and I know I will appreciate that flexibility going forward.

In some ways, this year has made me thankful for my life stage – I’ve already been through all of my education, I’ve travelled extensively, and a year in the UK is something that I have actively chosen to do before (and blogged about), so it’s no big deal to be stranded on this island for 2020. However, it has made meeting new people more challenging, whether that be dating, or making new friends, and part of me feels like my life has been on hold for 10 months. Even more simple joys, like getting my 100th parkrun, (one of my original plans for 2020) haven’t been possible.

Still, 2021 is a new year, and I have a renewed bout of hope that 2021 will provide a lot more in the way of possibility.

Cat Mac at Loch Glass

Siblings at Christmas

Zooming since March

Japanese birthday takeaway, obvs

We made our dinner, wowzers

Too Much Haggis and a Recorder

Well, it’s safe to say my optimism for 2021 hasn’t come to fruition quite yet. January was a long month. I felt like my focus was on getting through it, rather than living it. Vaccines are being rolled out across the country, and my Dad is one of many who have received their first jab. Of course, this is positive and although, in theory, there does seem to be light at the end of the tunnel, as I look out of the window on another cold, dark evening in south London, I can’t help but feel like the light isn’t getting any closer.

This past month has really tested my levels of self-discipline. In the first two weeks of January, I was sleeping in every morning, starting wfh as late as I could possibly justify. Lie-ins at the weekend were no longer novel because every day was a lie-in. However, rather than being satisfied from all the extra sleep I was getting, I felt frustrated with my laziness. I knew I was the only person who could change this so after a three-day weekend (what I need to make any life changes, it seems) I reset. Now, I get up early, make myself breakfast and watch a Japanese TV programme in bed. It was the compromise I made with myself; sure I’ll get up, but I’m going to enjoy my early morning, thanks very much.

I think that’s the key to getting through this period; finding routines that bring us joy. It’s not rocket science, but it is easier said than done. It’s funny how you can know that something is the right thing to do, yet you can’t bring yourself to do it. I’m currently reading Barack Obama’s most recent book, A Promised Land. I mean, I say I’m reading it, and really enjoying it, yet the last few nights I’ve found myself aimlessly scrolling on my phone, looking at nothing in particular, instead of putting down my phone and reading the book beside me. Again, I’m frustrated with myself. I’m at the end of a three-day weekend and am literally considering giving myself a phone curfew. Dry January. What about Dry Night Mobile February?

Ok, I know why you clicked on the post – you wanted to know about my haggis intake. And what’s this about a recorder? Desperate for some exciting activity in my life, I decided to go big on the Burns celebrations this year, planning no less than three official occasions to eat haggis. Combined with leftovers, I actually ate haggis on five separate occasions last week. Too. Much. Haggis. I also bought a recorder so I could pretend I was playing the bagpipes on some of my virtual haggis calls… I’d say it was a near-authentic experience for all of those involved. How can anyone be anything but happy when in the company of a recorder?

January is usually the time of year that I question my life decisions and wonder why I’m not living in Glasgow. I mean, I do that all year really, but even more so in January because this is the month when the traditional music festival Celtic Connections is held in the city. As with all of life, the festival has had to adapt and instead of two weeks’ of events taking place in venues across Glasgow, the whole festival was re-designed to be shown online. By chance, I ended up chatting with my school music teacher on Facebook in the lead-up to the festival and she very kindly offered me a ticket for the whole festival that she no longer needed. Cue me attending a gig of my favourite kind of music every night for the last two weeks. From the comfort of home!

Ok, ok, January hasn’t been so shabby after all. Let’s not forget Biden became US President, too. Tennis also geared up to restart the season in Australia (controversial as that may be). The photos coming out from the tennis right now make me so excited for the future but so jealous of the current differences in circumstances. 

I see you, February, but roll on that March heatwave, that’s what I’m here for. 

 

 

That Semi-Quarantined Life

I’m a few hours short of my two week arriving-back-in Scotland anniversary. Two weeks! How long has it been since I spent two weeks in a row in Scotland? Hmm, ok, maybe I did actually do this at Christmas. But in the summer! Completely different experience. The other day I sat in a deckchair in my parents’ garden and I had one of those overwhelming feelings of appreciation for a state of being that I haven’t experienced in so long. A glass of crystal-clear Scottish water in hand, I was enjoying the sunshine in an outdoor space located immediately beside my house. Magical. In this post-lockdown world, I don’t think the novelty of having a garden will ever grow old.

At the beginning of lockdown, I mentioned that my brother and I had been reluctant to come up north to Scotland for fear of bringing Covid-19 from London to our parents. However, after four months of barely leaving the Brixton peripheries, alongside a declining infection rate, and crucially a lift of restrictions in Scotland, my family concluded that they were comfortable with me making the journey north. I travelled to Inverness via the Caledonian Sleeper because of the minimal human interaction involved. My Dad picked me up and we travelled back to my parents’ home in silence, with masks on and the windows wide open. My luggage has been in a far corner of the living room quarantining for the last two weeks. Since arriving, I’ve been eating in a separate room from my parents and I’ve had my own butter, my own milk, my own yoghurt in the fridge. I’ve been using my own toilet roll and hand towel. All of these actions have been done in a quest to ensure that if I was carrying the virus with me from London, I didn’t pass it on to my parents.

It might seem extreme to some. However, the more I’ve talked about the post-lockdown family experience with friends, I’ve realised that my family aren’t alone in taking precautions. More than ever, there is a variable scale of comfort when it comes to the “new normal”. In the same way that I’d felt reassured when I’d heard of other families taking measures like ours, I wanted to pass on that reassurance and highlight how important it is that every person and every family takes their next steps in the way that they feel most comfortable. There isn’t one version of the ‘new normal’.

Having said all of the above, I recognise that my set-up over the last fourteen days has been a relatively easy version of quarantined life. I’ve been outside on an almost-daily basis, either walking, running or cycling my way around Dingwall and the surrounding area. My parents only moved here two years ago so it’s been fun to have the time and the freedom to get outside and explore a different part of Scotland.

I’m still working that remote-job life but in two weeks’ time I’m going on holiday. To Edinburgh! This time round I’ll stay in an Air BnB – possibly the first time I’ll have visited Edinburgh in my life and not stayed with friends. A different experience but I’m excited to pretend I’m back living in the Scottish capital.

It’s worth noting that thankfully neither I, nor my parents, have shown any signs of covid symptoms. Which means that semi-quarantined life of mine is over for now. Which means more of the below; enjoying the country I call home.

Are We Still In Lockdown?

The word ‘lockdown’ has been used more in 2020 than ever before, and though we’re still using it today, how the word translates now is very different to the definition that we had three months ago. Gone are the days of only chatting to your friends via Zoom; planning the essential one-supermarket-shop per week; and the never-ceasing-to-warm-my-heart Thursday 8pm claps. Gone are those days, and thank goodness for that (though I’d welcome more communal clapping). There was that weird in-between stage where the rules were interpreted in a variety of fashions, thanks to some not-so-clear government guidance. I wasn’t the biggest fan of that stage; it caused uneasiness and tension. And now? Now, there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Yesterday, I booked a one-way sleeper train home to the Highlands of Scotland. The Scotland that’s had no coronavirus-caused deaths recorded for three days in a row. There is light. We are all in the market for booking holidays now; the intensity of the last quarter has worn us out. The threat of a second wave looms loosely at the back of my mind, and there’s a sense of wanting to plan now, and go soon, before it’s no longer a possibility. Please let there not be a local lockdown in the next two weeks. Please.

Though I feel more than ready to get out of London, I am currently enjoying a brief hiatus in my own Brixton abode, with my flatmates having temporarily relocated to family and friends. I knew this day would come. I’d originally dreaded it because I viewed it as highlighting that I was not able to do the same. However, with my own plans for an escape now concrete, I’m able to fully embrace the peace, space and flexibility of solo living. This essentially means one thing: tennis, tennis, tennis. Have you seen Sue Barker is doing a Wimbledon programme every night for the next two weeks, despite Wimbledon not actually happening? This is why I pay for you, TV licence!

So what does lockdown mean now? For me, the reason I still feel like we’re in lockdown is because I’m still working from home. The communication from my workplace has been that no one will be expected to return to the office until October 1st at the earliest. Hence me booking a one-way ticket to Scotland. Why not be in the promised land when you can be?

Until then, here are some of my favourite pictures of late: reunions, city jaunts and of course, a Zoom call with the Murray family.

What Even Happened in May?

I’m lying on my bed, thinking about how to start my latest blog post with some quick-witted introductory remark, and wondering, what is my point today? What am I going to write about? What even happened in May?

I haven’t blogged for a couple of weeks, despite having had another three-day bank holiday. Sure, I’ve had the time to blog; I just haven’t. In part, it’s because I’ve felt there hasn’t been anything noteworthy to write about.

 

As I scroll through my phone camera feed, the last couple of weeks are entirely reflected through a series of food shots, pretty skies and, oh! The occasional socially-distanced reunion! Ok guys, we have a topic.

Whilst in the first few weeks of lockdown many of us were kicking ourselves for allowing our life choices to lead us to live somewhere with no outdoor space attached, the new factor we are all reflecting on, in these socially-distanced days, is our proximity to our friends and family. By tomorrow, everyone in the UK will be able to meet up with a small group of people, though the numbers will vary depending on which part of the UK you are based in. I’ve now had the chance to meet up with a few friends in various locations around me. Everyone is socially-distanced of course, and no homes allowed; outdoor spaces only.

This essentially means you meet everyone in the park. It also means that your meetings have a time limit because inevitably someone is dehydrated (usually me) (/yes, it’s still the best summer we never had) or someone needs to use a toilet. I wrote my last post just after the UK government decided that, in England, there could be unlimited exercise and “open-air recreation” i.e. sunbathing. These changes combined have made such a positive difference to my wellbeing and I spend a lot of my free time in Brockwell Park as a result. Every night after work, after dinner, I’ll walk to the park and listen to a podcast, sit on the hill and look into the distance to central London. Not wistfully mind; the skyline just makes a good view!

It’s funny how being outdoors and exercise has become an integral part of every day, in a way that it wasn’t engrained, at least for me, before Covid-19. It’s like I’m now programmed to think, “When am I going for a walk? When am I going outside?”. It’s not a case of if; it’s always “when”. I guess the never-ending British summer has a lot to do with that.

I recently had my second Boris bike adventure, this time to Granary Square, Kings Cross, a 5.2 mile journey from home. On that day I seemed to be out cycling with the rest of London’s population. Everyone wants to bike now! I’m not sure I’m at the point of buying my own bike yet, but I am in the market for a helmet, so if anyone has helmet expertise to offer, please do holler.

Otherwise, I’m finding some aspects of lockdown increasingly difficult. My sleep is going through waves. I’ve had a couple of instances in the last couple of weeks where I’ve felt like I haven’t slept at all and then I’ve suddenly been acutely aware that it’s 4am and the birds are tweeting (why, can anyone tell me, do birds not want to sleep in, too). This might be related to work becoming more stressful; every conversation and decision feels like it takes so much longer in a lockdown scenario. You can’t just have “a quick chat”. I’m trying to be more strict with routine i.e. setting my alarm for the same time, regardless of what day it is, and making a point of reading a book before I go to sleep, rather than being on my phone (currently reading Judy Murray’s book (again) FYI; from one legend (Michelle) to another). Fingers crossed that helps.

What’s next for lockdown?

London in Lockdown

As I mentioned when I started this lockdown series, I briefly contemplated returning to Scotland to see out the period of isolation. In the end, my brother and I opted to stay in our every-day respective homes in London and this is where we’ve somehow passed the last eight weeks. Though there have been aspects of staying in London that have been difficult, i.e. having no garden/outdoor space, and sleeping and working in the same room (challenges that wouldn’t have existed had I gone back to the Highlands), there have been a number of positives that have compensated.

(1) No shortage of global cuisine
We might not be able to eat out at restaurants at the moment, but in Brixton we have been fortunate to have an array of cuisine options still available for delivery to our doorstep. From Japanese to Lebanese, fried chicken and waffles, and many-a-burger, our weekly takeaways have been a highlight. Writing this has made me think we should probably branch out more simply because we can. When you can’t see the world, bring the world to you. Through food. Nyum.

(2) All the hipster coffee shops
Since my Easter weekend adventure, I’ve been on many a coffee excursion as more and more local coffee shops have opened up. This is a novelty that continues to bring me so much joy. I’ve actually discovered two new coffee shops in Brixton that I didn’t know existed before lockdown! Scrolling through my photos, I’m sorry to say I haven’t actually taken any photos of coffee, but here’s some freshly squeezed orange juice and strawberries from Le Daily Corner – my local French grocery store. Ah, très bien.

(3) Sunshine through my window
I’ve joked about it but in all seriousness, it’s probably been sunny for about 7/8 weeks of lockdown. The ample sunshine and warmer temperatures have been something I’ve always appreciated about London living, and though it’s been frustrating to not be able to enjoy the good weather as much as I would have liked, I’d much rather have it sunny outside than not. Long may it continue!

(4) A remote sense of connection
Though I’m not able to see my London-based friends or colleagues at the moment, I feel more connected to them simply because I’m still in London. When we look outside our windows, we see similar weather. We might run in the same places, or buy the same takeaways. When there’s an announcement about lockdown that refers directly to London, I’m directly affected, alongside all of them. Some of my friends were able to come to my doorstep on my birthday. Understandably, I feel much closer to my “normal life” because part of my life is exactly the same as before.

(5) Parks in every direction
London’s park scene is seriously something to shout about. Whether I’m at home or at work, I have multiple parks and green spaces that I can visit. Lockdown has been no different. Whilst Brockwell is the park closest to my house, and the one most easily frequented through the week, I’ve been going further afield on the weekend, either east to Clapham Common or south-east to end up in Dulwich Park. Dulwich Park is somewhere I’ve ran parkrun so many times, but not actually visited as a regular punter. Turns out it’s a lot bigger than the parkrun route, and very beautiful!

(6) Which supermarket shall I go to today?
Unintentionally, I seemed to order myself a bank-holiday-activity kit last week from Amazon, which conveniently arrived on Thursday afternoon, ahead of the bank holiday. In said kit, I received the Michelle Obama memoir, Becoming, i.e. the book that everyone read in 2019; some OPI nail varnish so I could give myself a dazzling pedicure – I can confirm, my toes are dazzling; and crucially, for my story, a baking tin. Yes, I wanted to join the craze of “let’s bake banana bread in lockdown’. However, before launching into giving purpose to my over-ripe bananas, I first needed to find me some baking paper. Four different supermarkets later, I finally succeeded. Not only that but I can go to Brixton Tesco for plantain. Clapham Sainsbury’s for Irish Soda bread and Asahi beer. And a third example right here for the sake of strengthening my argument. What is my point? That regardless of what I want, the chances are, I can find it. Without walking very far.

(7) “Boris and his bikes”
Let’s be honest, the bikes are the whole reason I wrote this blog post. Just kidding, it was actually my brother who suggested the bikes to me – I hadn’t even ridden them until yesterday (yes, yesterday!). Santander Cycles, most commonly referred to as “Boris bikes” due to them being introduced while Boris Johnson was Mayor of London, is a bicycle hire scheme where you can rent a bicycle for a bargainous £2 per 24-hour period. £2! This is the sort of bargain I live for. There are over 750 docking stations around the city, making it very easy to explore the city. My favourite fact about the bikes is that the most southerly docking station is at the end of my street. True story. I am destined for a lockdown of cycling!

So there you have it. I might not have a garden, but I’ve got all of the above!

A New Approach

The night before my birthday, I slept very badly. As I mentioned in my last post, I’d made plans for the day to ensure it was a happy day, but as a result, subconsciously, I think I felt a sense of pressure and expectation. Would these things I’d planned live up to my hype? Either it was pressure or I was just super excited. But is turning 33 really that exciting?

Little did I know, but this would be the start of a bad week of sleep. ‘Why am I still not sleeping?’, I muttered out loud as I lay in bed in the dark, having been wide awake for hours, days after my birthday had been successfully done and dusted. Each morning that followed, I would stay in bed for as long as possible, trying to recover sleep I hadn’t got through the night. However, as a result, I think I made the problem worse. My brain felt constantly wired and I couldn’t switch it off; it was permanent fuzz. Even the weekend didn’t seem to help.

I’m very fortunate to be someone who generally sleeps well. Provided I’m in a bed that is; I do not sleep on transport! Sleep is such a personal thing and I know that the changes that I went on to make won’t necessarily make a difference for anyone else, but they worked for me. In essence, I thought, “Right. How can I make my life of remote working and isolation, as close a reflection of my “normal” life, before lockdown happened?” i.e. when my sleep was definitely ok.

Morning routine
“Normal”: Wake up 7/7.30am, shower, eat breakfast, commute, be at work around 9am.
Last week: Wake up at 9am, shower, make breakfast, start work 9.30am, finish breakfast around 11.30am, brush teeth at 12 noon.
This week: Wake up at 7.30am, shower, eat breakfast, go on a morning walk, make a morning coffee, start work at 9.30am.

To be honest, it’s the morning routine that has made the biggest difference. I eat breakfast when it’s supposed to be eaten, and I walk as far as I would on a normal commute from Brixton to the office. I’m also ending the day by going on another walk (via the supermarket, when necessary). Now I’m moving throughout the day, as I normally would, rather than it being something that only happens after 6pm.

I’ve also temporarily moved my desk into the living room to give myself some mental separation from my bedroom and where I work. This is a bit tricky because, living in a flat-share, the living room isn’t my own space. However, even as a temporary measure, it’s made a world of difference to not just my sleep, but my general wellbeing. My bedroom has returned to being my haven, and as a result, I am generally falling asleep swiftly after hitting the pillow.

Whilst I was going through the worst of my sleep fuzz, I was very keen to avoid screens. Between work, social calls, and Netflix/Disney+/Amazon Prime, it’s just screens, screens, screens. Non-screen activities have become so necessary; food-related activities are ideal. Who doesn’t want to eat? My culinary genius friend Jané dropped off a (haggis) gyoza-making kit at my doorstep last week and talked me through the steps via a House-party call. Literally, one of my favourite meals in life.

This triggered Sara to post through some Japanese curry sauce – that’s tonight’s activity. Thanks to a very generous present, I’ve also been able to order some meals via Mindful Chef, saving me from my least favourite activity – thinking about what to cook – and giving me the opportunity to cook meals I’d never otherwise have the confidence to consider, or be-bothered-ness to find the ingredients required. Food is the way forward!

A Happy Lockdown Birthday

I tend to feel apprehensive about my birthday. Not because of a fear of growing older – I’m a bit indifferent to that to be honest though, as a fan of even numbers, it does distress me slightly that I have a whole year ahead of being 33. Rather, I think it’s a fear of being disappointed. Planning a celebration that doesn’t end up being that fun, for example. Or friends not remembering that it’s your birthday. As if this one day in the year is the one chance for the world to tell you how much they love you – or don’t love you. Or nothing happening at all? Last year my birthday conveniently fell on Easter Sunday and I persuaded my siblings to go with me on an adventure to Denmark. Thus conveniently missing my birthday in the UK and the need to plan anything on the day to celebrate. You can’t be disappointed if you’re not there to celebrate, right?

No such luck in lockdown! ‘What will I do?’, I mused to my friend Silvia, as we toasted to surviving another week of isolation in our respective countries. There was no (literal or non-literal) running away from my birthday this year so I had to be proactive to ensure that a birthday in lockdown was a happy lockdown birthday.

To cut an inevitably long ramble short, I really enjoyed my birthday. In fact, I think a lockdown birthday suits my personality more than a non-lockdown birthday. Well, aspects of it! As part of my celebrations, I asked my friends to run. This isn’t an abnormal request. Ordinarily, I am renowned for forcing/blackmailing/kindly persuading my friends to join me running which made incorporating this into my birthday a very easy transition. Sure, they wouldn’t be with me physically, but they could be with me in spirit through their permitted one-exercise-a-day. Despite having an increasing number of friends with dodgy hips (potentially an Andy Murray tribute?), I was very impressed with the efforts of my friendship circle. Particularly when they got creative:

Serious kudos for this, and shout-out to the mastermind Jané, though amusingly, I didn’t actually realise that my friends had done this until it was pointed out to me. I thought they were just keen beans sending me their route maps during what happened to be a 10-second window, in a newly-curated What’s App group. Sure, sure, the signs might have been there. I blame old age. Thank you to everyone who walked/ran/alphabeteered!

  

One of my favourite aspects of the lockdown birthday was being able to speak with friends from around the world. Now, yes I could also do that in a non-lockdown birthday, but it’s unlikely that I’d bring friends altogether in quite the same format. It’s also unlikely that I’ll do it again in quite the same way. As Jané pointed out, we’ll be glad to see the back of Zoom when the time comes, as good as it has been to us in this time of social distancing.

Four rounds of the weather game later, I’d spoken with friends from all eras of my life and in a very indirect way, introduced them to each other. This is actually one of my favourite things to do – bond my friends. Though I love it, in real life, I’d have probably found this process a lot more exhausting due to being the single link between everyone. Contrastingly, on Zoom, I just had to ask if anyone had a story, and then sit back and listen to my friends tales.

Thank you to everyone who thought of me on my birthday, and over the days that followed. I received some very thoughtful presents, both tangible and not, including my first and second ever flower deliveries! (thanks Macs!). Aside from being a break from the normal routine of remote working and social distancing, my birthday served as a great reminder that I’m not alone in all of this, and I have some very special people that I am able to call my family and friends.

Tomorrow it’s my flatmate’s birthday – let the lockdown celebrations continue!

Mustering Motivation

Despite the title, here I am at 10.30pm on a Sunday night, starting a blog post. Either this post is going to be about five sentences long, or I am not going to sleep any time soon. Though in many aspects of my life, I’m feeling drained and/or demotivated, my desire to blog has not wilted. I want to remember this time so I’m going to document this time. Even if, on the surface of it, nothing much is really happening.

This week I’ve learned two key things; firstly, the need to pace the day. My Monday-to-Friday weekdays take care of themselves because I essentially just go for a walk after work, and may or may not take in a supermarket en-route. However, the weekend time is my own and when the weather is still beautiful outside (honestly, has this been the best weather you’ve ever had, London?) it makes me consider my movements more carefully. Yesterday I had the same 3pm Japanese lesson as last week, and I still went for a walk beforehand, but crucially, I didn’t go supermarket shopping in the morning. That meant that, after my Japanese class, I had another opportunity to go outside, it felt like my day had more balance, and I didn’t feel trapped.

Secondly, I’ve realised the importance of having activities that are solely related to the weekend, to distinguish between the almost-identical days at home, and help my body and mind be fortified, ahead of another week of lockdown. Last week, working from home really affected me. I imagine there were a number of contributing factors but one aspect is the strain of being on poor-connection calls, either struggling to hear, or constantly being cut off, and trying to reconnect. It’s tiring communication. By the end of the week, my shoulders were aching from being hunched over my laptop, and my brain was buzzing to the point that I abandoned the desk a number of times and lay flat out on my bed, longing for the working day to be over.

I have a (very-newly-developed) Saturday morning tradition where I go for a run and then watch Race Around The World on my bed with a coffee as a reward. Except yesterday I just could not muster up the motivation to go anywhere beyond the kitchen so I skipped the run, and went straight for the TV and coffee. More and more, I’m finding myself in ‘Computer says No’ status, except it’s ‘Catmac says No’. I initially felt guilty for my lack of productivity but as the day went on, I knew I’d made the right decision. As my flatmate said to me at the beginning of lockdown: getting through a day of this life is an achievement in itself; anything on top of that is a bonus.

Not Your Average Easter Weekend

It’s Good Friday: the day Jesus died, and the end of the fourth week in (my wfh) lockdown. Not your average sentence, but then again, it’s not your average Easter weekend. Though is the Easter weekend ever an average weekend?

I thought I’d do things differently this time round and document my life on each day of the four-day holiday. Why? Partly for something to do, let’s be honest. But also because, by its nature, I think this weekend will be one of the stand-out memories from the lockdown period.

One reason I will remember the weekend is because I am going to be working shifts on Friday and Monday; no 4-day weekend for me. Fortunately my weekend, in it’s traditional sense, is unaffected. Today’s shift is from 3pm to 9pm so I’m currently enjoying a lazy morning, drinking coffee and blogging my thoughts, before heading out for my single excursion of the day: an investigative jaunt to a bakery that is rumoured to still be open. This is a flatmate excursion, might I add – the first of the lockdown period, so a landmark event in our lockdown diaries.

It’s sunny again today in London, as it has been, it feels like, since the beginning of t̶i̶m̶e̶ this lockdown. Though I am enjoying the warmth; the excuse to consume daily Cornettos; and the realisation that I might not have to wash socks again until the autumn, it does feel like the weather is taunting us a bit. Particularly for those of us with no way to enjoy it outside of our one-exercise-a-day ventures and supermarket sweeps. 

And now it’s Saturday, and all I want to do is cry. This morning I went to Sainsbury’s, queued for about 15 minutes and somehow spent the most money I’ve ever spent on a single supermarket visit. Must be all those Lindt mini eggs I couldn’t resist (£0.40 down from £0.50, what a bargain). This is not the reason I want to cry might I add, though I have cheered myself up with the thought that you might have thought that – cheap Scot and all that. I completely understand.

It was midday when I arrived home again and as I thought forward to the rest of the day, I suddenly felt very trapped; ‘I only have one more opportunity to go outside today.’ With an online Japanese class scheduled for 3pm, I was quick to head out again, walking over to Clapham Common on a quest to soak up some sun. Most people were moving, but I found myself glaring at the half-naked couple sunbathing on the common. Because that’s just it – it’s not just the limited number of excursions that I feel trapped by; it’s the fact that I don’t feel I can stop. I can’t sit down on a bench because they’ve been taped over. I can’t sit down like the half-naked couple because my conscience won’t let me. There’s nowhere to go. I can’t stop and sit to reflect, and appreciate the outdoors. I just have to keep on moving until I make it back into my house which, as lovely as it is, is starting to feel more and more confined, removed, and, crucially, roofed.

I think the fact that we’ve made it to four weeks is affecting me more than I realised. Where does this end?

This blog post has turned into more of a documentation of my feelings and mood over the weekend, rather than a record of what I did over the four-day stretch. I guess that makes sense though because who really cares that I’m finally watching Ugly Betty 15 years later?

I’d originally been scheduled to work today. Though I’m all about supporting the cause (the cause being an engineering response to Covid), I e-mailed the powers that be and pleaded not to work this particular Sunday. Why? Because this Sunday was Easter Sunday.

I belong to a niche category of person – that is: someone who has the background and lifestyle of a Christian, but goes to church less than a handful of times in a year, and seldom engages with Christianity, nor other Christians. Yet, crucially, in this niche category, I would never consider myself turned away from Christianity altogether. It’s a world I’m familiar with, and all-too-aware of, but one where I don’t feel I belong, nor can I live up to the expectations I feel it presents. That being said, it’s at the core of who I am.

I felt like I needed this Easter Sunday. One of my favourite aspects of church has always been the community that’s come with it. This morning, for the first time in two years of living in this flat, my flatmates and I went to church together. In the living room. Flatmate David works at HTB, aka the trendiest church in London, and it was their Sunday service that we tuned into, via Chromecast.

Tonight, we’re sitting down for a roast dinner – again, the first collective roast dinner that we’ve had in our time living together. It’s not that we don’t hang out as flatmates; we just tend to live very separate lives and spend little intentional time together. Whilst there are many frustrations with my current circumstances, today I’ve felt particularly thankful for my flatmates, and the fact that our similar Christian contexts have led to us being inclined to celebrate Easter and reflect on what it’s all about.

Today has felt different. These days, it’s normal for my Sundays to feel like any other day. But today has honestly felt like a break from the lockdown. A break from work; a break from the feelings of being trapped that I had yesterday, and will likely have tomorrow.

It’s Easter Monday and to be honest, I don’t really have a lot to say. Maybe it’s because I’m writing this immediately after finishing my second 3-9 shift and consequently, I’m feeling a little brain-dead. I find working days a lot easier than non-working days in lockdown, and as today was a working day, it’s felt manageable. There’s structure; your time is naturally-filled and crucially desk-based, and when you do get outside at either end of it, it feels a bit more normal.

I was nominated for the Run for Heroes fundraising cause, so started my day running a 5k around Brockwell Park. At the end, I tried numerous times to take a normal-looking selfie, but it turns out I look like a pirate pre-10am. No really, my eyes don’t open the same width. Even if you look closely in the photo I ended up with below, you’ll see my left eye can’t open as wide as my right eye. The struggle is seriously real. However, on a positive note, my friend Aaron pointed out that the photo below kind of looks like I’ve been painted on to the side of the house. Hence why I’ve made it black and white to look even more edgy. And on that note, Easter weekend, it’s a wrap.