A retreat of self discovery and by the end I will be a much better person

IT’S amazing what you get used to when you have to. If you told me six months ago I’d get used to not going out, as in not going ANYWHERE beyond the perimeter of my property, I’d have laughed.

But you do get used to it. That’s not saying I like it. But at some point, acceptance filters in and you just go with it because you realise you have no other choice. I don’t even long to go to the pub anymore. It’s grand once I know no-one else is going either. Fomo is a b***h!

In some ways last week was worse than this week for me. I was still railing against the idea that someone was ordering me to stay put – taking away my freedom and confining me to barracks. This week I’m just trying to fill the days with pointless tasks like cleaning the house and guarding the fridge and cupboards from the savages.

But I’ve also set aside an hour each day to read, something I usually don’t have time for. And we do a family movie night a couple of times a week, just so we can be with each other and not have to talk. Because at this stage talking just ends in a ridiculous argument over who ate the last bag of tayto or didn’t put their plate in the dishwasher.

I’ve also accepted that I now resemble a piebald pony and will probably need to spend an entire day in the hairdressers to fix it, once this pandemic is all over but you know, if I’m in isolation no one can see me anyway so that dilemma has solved itself really.

I’m trying to think of it as a sort of intensive retreat of self discovery and by the end I will be a much better person. We’ve all found out that as bad a cook as I may be, I’m an even worse baker. My scones look like beige cow pats and my attempt at a pie didn’t even pass the dog’s standards.

I’ve discovered I need to work on my morning face. I cannot bear chatter before 10 am (11 if I’m being really honest) and my first cup of tea of the day. For someone who has always considered themselves a ‘People Person’, I actually like my own space, without anyone asking me something or demanding snacks!

I would have made a lousy teacher. I don’t have the patience or the smarts. In fact I now think teachers deserve medals and I promise never to slag them off again. Those three months holidays a year are well-earned.

Each and everyone of us face our own private battles daily. We’ll have good days and bad ones but as long as we have someone to talk to, someone looking out for us, we will be ok.

Thinking of you all – stay safe.

AS BAD A COOK AS I MAY BE, I’M AN EVEN WORSE BAKER. MY SCONES LOOK LIKE BEIGE COWPATS AND MY PIE DIDN’T EVEN PASS THE DOG’S STANDARDS.