‘RONA COULDN’T COW THE NEW YEAR TIDY FAIRY

Ten years from now, maths exams will include a question along the lines of “if biggest kid was exposed to Covid on Thursday and had negative LFTs for four days but she got it from a friend who caught it at the pub three days previously and tested positive five days later, how likely is it middle kid is going to test positive on an LFT test if she tests two days after biggest kid tests positive?”

Mathematics and I will never be friends, and

biggest kid’s PCR eventually returned as positive – hello first isolation of 2022 for Family Duncan, here’s hoping you’ll be our last.

Not one to brag BUT, we’ve coped like absolute champs.

She slept for a considerable length of time. To show solidarity, I have, too.

Was this Omicron or Delta? Or my period, or maybe just a cold? Or anxiety? Or perimenopause? Or chemo side effects? Or a tumour (it is NOT a tumour) or too much sitting about or too much screen time? OR has my cancer spread? Or is it stress (constant parenting is hard), or should I simply just let myself sleep?

Honestly, I’ve reached a point in my 40s where I try to remove my sultry, smoky eye make-up only to remember I’m not wearing any.

These days people without bags under their eyes make me nervous – what don’t they have to be tired about?

My latest chemo cycle had to be delayed, but that aside, there have only been

a few isolation glitches, and isolation 2022 hasn’t been too bad. However, seeing as Alexa hasn’t bothered to take down the Christmas decorations, I’ll have to do it.

Time to detox the house as well as ourselves!

I’ll start with a load of washing. I’ve run out of washing powder. I’ll just pop that on a list for a supermarket delivery, where’s my pen? The pen pot is jumbled up and some have run out. I’ll quickly test them and chuck out any duds.

Now the bin needs emptied, I’ll take it out, and give it a quick bleach. I might as well do the food waste, too. If I’m emptying that, I’ll make sure the dead flowers go, too.

And now I see we have too many glass vases, I’ll just pop them aside to go to the charity shop, but I can’t start a pile because the front porch is a mess. I’ll organise that. There are some summer shoes to go up

into the wardrobe, even I’m not daft enough for birkies in

January, oh! There are some clothes in a box under the bed for donating, too.

And THIS is how I ended up sitting on the bedroom floor in my wedding dress looking through our wedding album and NOT taking down the Christmas decorations.

As distracted as I was, the detox didn’t end there.

I unfollowed some people on social media, what joy. I unsubscribed to emails. I chucked products way past their expiry dates out (the worst offender being medication from 2017).

I organised my phone by deleting two billion photos

of the dogs. I binned tonnes of random documents from the laptop and emptied out the cars.

I had heady aspirations regards organising our finances but accept my mental health isn’t up to that momentous task this week and have popped that on a “to do” list.

Friends were kind enough to check in to make sure we were doing OK and had everything we needed.

One expressed her concern over us having to stay in the house ALL day.

Honestly, this isn’t something I have an issue

with. All my stuff is here, my favourite people are here, and the outside world is a little too “peopley” for me just now.

Even cries of “what’s for tea” were met head on. Tonnes of miniature goods in quantities of 12. Mini toads in their teeny holes. Mini pies. Mini quiches. Mini sausage rolls.

And when they ran out, we rediscovered our love of our forgotten toastie machine. What can’t you heat between two slices of bread? Nothing!

At this point I’m not sure what’s scarier. Taking another lateral flow test or

weighing myself. But before I start to detox myself, I just wanted to check, does

anyone like me chubby?

Mary Jane and ‘Rona Girl (aka Ella).