Ok, so I’ve recently became freelance (yes that’s right, at the beginning of an enormous recession, with mass unemployment rates and basically the whole world on fire- I timed it well). Now this may not be news to you, but it turns out being a freelance writer is not a…

Musings on the End of a Relationship — My ex-boyfriend and I are dividing up our possessions. It is a small shared kingdom and comprises only of one lamp, one crocheted blanket, a cup, and a selection of small stones. Scant evidence, we decide, of such an intense and interdependent relationship. This makes me laugh so hard I…

Locked out. I miss art. I miss museums and galleries and shared experiences. I miss the feeling of getting up close to a painting of an artist I love (long dead) and knowing that it was looked at with their eyes, created by their hand. That the very idea for…

And I’m fine with that. — Lockdown has taught me a few things. One: I cannot bake. Two: late night drinking and early morning (worse — self-motivated) yoga will never be mutually exclusive. And three: my boyfriend will never (ever) be my best friend. And I’m fine with it. I will be the first to admit…

Furious. You are furious. Fury is hardly a passive emotion but here you are, two months deep into your law abiding stasis, buoyed up on boredom and internet news. The grotesque, awful and unjust tragedies skim around you like oil on water. You catch their outlines out of the corner…

Early this morning I have a dream where some weird infection is spreading over the world, and everyone has been told that they can only socialise with the people they live with. Just after waking, in that no-mans-land of semi-consciousness where anything can be anything, I am utterly and comically…

Distracted, lethargic, slightly sad, quietly and incessantly anxious. Bored, quite argumentative and prone to small but significant outbursts of physical aggression. Waiting to win 58 million on the Euromillions. Nothing particularly of note.

C is weeing on the potato patch. This is one of the numerous ways he reminds me of my father. Which is disconcerting. Though many things are at the moment so I’ve chosen not to dwell on this one in particular. My days are split in tonality. From 8:45 till…

Out on my daily walk on the common, an elderly man cycles past muttering ‘bastard, bastard, bastard’ under his breath. His rucksack and panniers are stuffed full of reduced-price Easter eggs. I wonder who is the bastard, and what can have gone so wrong in his day that he can…