Becky says things about … being institutionalised

Greetings isolators!

Happy Bank Holiday! Isn’t it wonderful to have a Bank Holiday on a Friday! What a novelty! What an absolutely wonderful excuse to go for a mass picnic in this beautiful weather, or to cram into a pub garden and drink pint after pint of ice cold beer! What an absolute MOCKERY OF OUR CURRENT INCARCARATION.

So it appears we are over the hump and the end of lockdown is in distant sight; a gradual relaxing of the rules that have forced us to be antisocial hermits for nearly eight weeks. That sounds fantastic, doesn’t it?! It’s the moment we’ve been waiting for!

But eight weeks is a long time. This is our life now, isn’t it?

So what if, when we’re finally allowed to all see each other again, we find we don’t want to?

What if we’ve all forgotten how to socialise with humans that are standing in front of us?

What even is real life? I wake up, I go to the shop, I go for a walk, I do some exercise, I check my emails (there are no emails), I write a blog, I read a book, I cook some dinner, I watch some TV, I speak to friends on Zoom – I have spent 23 hours a day for the last 47 days in my tiny studio flat. What else is there?

What if, when we’re allowed to go and buy the things we haven’t been able to buy for eight weeks, we become overwhelmed?

What if, when we’re allowed to have gatherings, and places get more crowded, and more people spill outside, and we’re allowed to go to things like birthday parties, we have a freak out?

What if, when we’re allowed to book holidays again, we find the thought of travelling more than 3 miles from our homes frightening?

The answer is: we won’t know until it happens. And in the meantime, I need to book the corner of my kitchen by the fridge for June 2021 before it gets too busy.

Becky says things about … a life in loungewear

Greetings isolators!

What beautiful weather we’re having! Isn’t it just so fantastically nice of Mother Nature to gift us with day after day of wall to wall sunshine when we’re only allowed to go out in it for TWENTY-EIGHT SECONDS.

So, a month into the Universe having an absolute freak-out, and I admit I am settling very easily into a life in loungewear. The other day I went for my daily walk and I didn’t want to take a bag with me, and the particular leggings I was wearing didn’t have any pockets, so I was forced to hold my keys and my phone, which really annoyed me (no one wants to hold things) – and it was only halfway into my walk that it occurred to me that I could have put on my jeans. My jeans, which not only have sufficient pockets, but some would say plentiful pockets. But there had been no part of my brain that had tapped on the inside of my skull and whispered ‘Excuse me, Becky, you have other trousers you can wear that aren’t leggings.’

So when I got back I put on my jeans, just to see what it was like.

I quickly took them off again.

Let’s face it, we’re living the dream! This is what we’ve always wanted! How many times have we sweated to death on public transport in an uncomfortable suit, or been bum-sliced by evilly tight trousers, or wished that our skirt wouldn’t ride up our legs with every miniscule movement: we spend our lives wishing we were at home in our loungewear, and now here we are! Jackpot!

And gone is that concept that so often makes people late to social occasions: ‘I just need to pop home to get changed’. Get changed? ‘Oh, here’s me spending the whole day loping about in my loungewear, and oh dear it’s half seven I’d better get changed for my Zoom call with my chums.’ Don’t be ridiculous! You may as well put on shoes for your Zoom call. The very idea!

And not only can we justifiably spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in the most comfortable clothing known to mankind, we can really let ourselves go! One of my favourite things about lockdown is having absolutely zip diddly reason to blow dry my hair. I loathe blow drying my hair; it is SUCH a boring use of time, and the return I get for my investment is always shite, but now, just hop out of the shower, give it a quick brush and shove it up in a bun! Heaven! And anyway, I’ve not had a haircut since November so blow-drying it would be as pointless as handing a plaster to Anne Boleyn.

I don’t have to paint my nails! I am rubbish at painting my nails, and I am fed up of spending minutes carefully and lovingly brush-stroking them of an evening, to then have to spend an entire meeting the next day trying to hide my nails under tables and in paperwork because in the cold light of day they look like they’ve been attacked by a varnish-wielding hippo with the use of sight in only one eye.

I’m not so keen on the eyebrow situation, because having been swept into the moderately painful but extremely effective world of eyebrow threading over the past couple of years, the concept of plucking my own eyebrows is one I’ve tried to ignore, but the passing of time is rendering it increasingly hard to gloss over, so that’s one thing I might actually look into.

But hey, a life in loungewear and of relaxing our grooming routines is a luxury that won’t be around forever, so make the most of it. And anyway, we shouldn’t look too presentable, as this might raise suspicion when we go outside.

 

Stay healthy, stay home and look after each other, and endless thank yous and a million claps for the heroes that can’t stay at home in their loungewear. You are wonderful. xx