I AM SPENDING
Another birthday stuck at home. It’s become a way of measuring the passing of time during the pandemic, when the normal rules of time seem to have vanished. The new yardstick is: Where were you this time last year? Inevitably, it was in lockdown. Or between lockdowns, when the rest of the country still wouldn’t let us cross their borders. On a positive note, it means I don’t have to endure my workmates singing Happy Birthday to me, although I will miss the yummy food at the afternoon tea that always accompanies the public humiliation. And I will miss getting hugs from my kids.