I do actually like my own company – which is just as well. I have friends who pale at the mere idea of being alone with themselves.
And I am fortunate in having space. With both a house and a garden, I have options.
Since acquiring wheels I have become accustomed to social distancing. Social isolation follows quite seamlessly. I don’t get invited to inaccessible homes and, knowing they cannot reciprocate, people are increasingly reluctant to accept hospitality from me – or invite me out when it means rejecting inaccessible venues.
The “Boris” hostile environment has been a great training ground – reducing my social interactions to the absolutely necessary. Thank you “Boris”
However … I’m tempted to think that the “Vladimir” contribution might be the hidden blessing. I never stopped the process of washing my hands the moment I come home. I learned not to touch my face – to be so much more aware of what I don’t know in my environment and what I really don’t need to take for granted.Habitual handwashing, and a heightened awareness of what I touch, since the Novichok episode, surely puts me ahead of the game. Thank you “Vladimir”.
Another painfully gained skill that might have stood me in good stead, I have foolishly, it turns out, been working very hard to abandon.
I used to hoard food. The initial shock of coming into contact with DWP after escaping the coercive control of my husband, filled me with extra fear and total insecurity. I hid longlife food, I tucked rice in my clothes drawer, sardine tins in my shoes, tomato tins in the meter cupboard. Hoarding tins was my security.
I did manage to stop, but am having to rethink.
It goes against the grain, but I’m even beginning to wonder if I should be thanking someone for teaching me how to live on the bare minimum…out there on the edge of luxury with dandelion “pesto” and windfall paella.
Take it. I’ve plenty
No seriously, take it.
With hindsight, regret