Day five: LOCKDOWN (yes we're all getting increasingly dramatic deal with it)

Am rewatching Buffy and currently we're at the point when Buffy believes she's in a mental asylum. Currently that feels like reading the news. Boris (our Prime Minister in the new reality that slowly invaded our country post-Brexit), has Coronavirus! As does, ironically, our Health Secretary, whose name I've forgotten but who is another shiny-faced 50-something rich white man.

So, what happened yesterday? The days are slightly blurring into one. I cooked breakfast - omelette with gruyere and mushrooms and a salad of kolhbari, tomatoes and radishes with a mustard vinagrette. It was very yummy if a bit too fatty on the omelette front. Then went for a long cycle to Norwood Park and then Crystal Palace park. Beautiful, hilly, hard work and very strange seeing all the boarded up shops. Sort of sad and epic and weird all at once. I've realised I often feel very dramatic when cycling around somehow. And now I'm allowed to (it is now the morning of Monday and I'm skittering helplessly between emails). Now it is the afternoon. Am panicking a bit. Scary author call coming up and mid-negotations and I need to do two offers and I'm meant to have sent highlights and UGH. Working from home is tough at times.

Day Three Corona Virus and Role Playing Games

So didn't manage to write yesterday but it was a long work day followed by an abortive Zoom attempt with family and followed by making a nice butternut squash curry. For future reference, roasting the squash first in ground spices really works. Coconut milk, tomato (and puree) and lots of onion, And cinnamon - it was actually nicer than I thought it was at the time (had some for dinner tonight). Today I have had five meetings, which is - next-week-Anna please remember - too many and also spacing them every hour is a bad plan for it doesn't leave enough time to actually do anything else in between. However, it's actually been quite a satisfying week, workwise. Lots of new challenges. I know, that sounds v corporate and horrid but do actually mean it. Such ridiculous circumstances have really taken the pressure off. Realistically we were v unlikely to make budget this year across our two lists, and I was quite worried even though I am trying (with a great lack of focus) to find a different sort of job. NOW, I can just explain that it's cos of Corona. There should be a name really for the blaming of Corona/Covid 19 for everything. Covustification. Covidsplaining (when a man takes it upon himself to explain The Situation).

Things that have made me laugh: a tasting of white wine last week. James (still learning to taste wine), tried some and then said, loudly, 'tannins!' I said, 'No.' He said, 'But that's a word people say about wine!' So we've got some way to go before getting to sommelier level. We then imagined what if James had a very middle class version of Tourettes and just stumbled around the world shouting things like, 'Mortgage!', 'Excellent schools!', 'Jerusalem artichokes!', 'Single Origin!'. And now I can't stop thinking about it and giggling because also we haven't spoken to any other actual humans for some time. Except a lady I met while picking up the vegetables on Thursday. Her hand touched mine when she passed me the padlock and I winced. Strange times, indeed.

Tonight, I had a family Zoom call which was nice - lovely to see Adam and Elle and the cats, and lovely to see Mum (though she did immediately tell me off for not speaking to her the day before). I did yet more yoga, which I'm currently getting very very hooked to. Stood on my head the other day and then thought... was this a good use of my time? I remain unsure.

Later I chatted to some friends to set up a role playing game. It's only my second one of them, and playing it remotely should be interesting. I'm a noble, with a demon part and some Dark Powers that currently remain unspecified. Owing to a slightly drunken brainstorm, we unfortunately worship a Leaf God (i know) and live in a treehouse/old watchtower. We are a cult and our reputation is 'strange'. The last one I played I managed to break in under an hour by calling the character who turned out to be the big bad on the phone and explaining all of our plans to him. I would have said this one could only go better, but, well, I did help create our leaf god. Also we're called The Horticultists. And we worship the 'Curious Arborial'. One thing is for sure: even if we are once again allowed to touch strangers, I'm unlikely ever to have sex again.



  

Coronavirus, lockdown, strangeness

Well, what a difference a few months makes... I feel as though I'm currently living in one of the books I publish!

Coronavirus, a flu-like, infectious virus without a current vaccine, has spread around the world since December, beginning with China. 

It sounds like a (clumsily worded) beginning to a book pitch, and to be honest writing it down feels very, very odd. I can't believe it's actually true. It makes me realise how very strange the whole thing has been! I'm currently working from home, as is my whole company. All non-essential shops are shut. Except for Sports Direct who continue to insist they are 'essential' (for the wealth of the twatty owner). It's not a terribly lethal disease, in good news, it's a bit like very nasty flu, but has a higher death rate for those with underlying conditions. It's now in every continent in the world. EVERY CONTINENT. As of yesterday, the UK is on 'lockdown'. We are not allowed to meet more than one person in a public place, all pubs, bars and so forth are now closed by government decree. It makes me realise how generally anxious I've felt about not going out enough and now that's just - gone. It's sort of freeing/scary, until I found myself today managing to be anxious about what would happen when it gets better and opens up again and would I be invited to enough post-Corona parties? There are deaths, Anna. Actual deaths and terror and lives ruined and THAT is the bit I choose to worry about.

Also, in charge of the US is still this man:

Which I think we can all agree is a shame. Thus far he insists on referring to Covid 19 as 'the China flu', has decided on a hunch that it is 'very mild' (global pandemic), said there would be a vaccine by the end of March (there won't be) and told America that insurance companies have agreed to pay for treatment (they haven't). So, business as usual.

Work is... weird. Worried about the team. Happily am living with Alice and James who remain lovely, and together we are watching films, drinking wine, and generally just trying to weather it as best we can. Also worried about keeping my job, having to take a pay cut, no longer getting a load of promotions through that I'd fought for and generally just hoping everyone doesn't go mental. At least people are going to need books to read, I suppose. I've told myself I'm going to try and keep a diary, as these are officially, as designated by the Chinese curse, 'interesting times'.

So. What did I do today? Ate a late breakfast (sourdough, avocado, tomato, blue cheese, balsamic yes I know don't judge me and thank god no one reads this but if I'm going to be stuck in the house I'm going to damn well make nice food). Answered emails, sat on Teams calls, emailed authors. Didn't really achieve a lot but did catch up with everyone, which I do think is important also. Had miso soup and dried mango for a sort of lunch and did two (terrible) exercise classes with Alice in the garden around lunch time, then the first of the amazing Fiji McAlpine's 14 day workshop: https://www.doyogawithme.com/content/14-day-yoga-challenge-day-one. Tonight, Alex has decided to have a 'virtual pub', so we'll all be chatting on Houseparty with wine (online apps for Facechat are now HUGE). At some point I'm going to eat rice I made yesterday which is flavoured with black and green cardamom, fresh turmeric, coriander seeds (that bit was a mistake - too floral) and chicken stock. And it is going to be nice. Will also call mum for today's episode of The Archers meets I Am Legend, which is always a pleasure. She's on her own in the house, to be fair, and doing amazingly well. Thank goodness for her garden, for Netflix, for Amazon Prime and for the BBC. Definitely the new gods for this new and strange time.

Until tomorrow...

Fish is getting married. (not to me). I feel strange. Someone else is going to be Mrs Fisher. And have blond, sunlight-hating, faintly autistic children. We’ll never build our own house in Australia. His mum probably likes her better. And I have a nice boyfriend, an Oli. Not sure if it’s going anywhere, but we’re trying, though I'm beginning to suspect we might both be a bit broken.

I feel annoyed because I thought Fish was the more messed up one, on balance, but the evidence would suggest otherwise. He’s moved on properly. Found proper love. They’ve been together about three years. We were together, on and off, about seven. I feel ok. Not looking forward to the inevitable build up. Nor the awkwardness of my friends who will all be going. But actually do feel ok. I suppose I should after so many years. It’s been about seven since we were together. The bit that hurts the most is that some of my memories with him are so intensely happy – and it makes me feel silly that I suppose his feelings for Helen (who’s annoyingly nice btw) must be so much more intense. All these years I thought it was both of us who were in this intense relationship and actually maybe it was just me.

Why it ended (as advised by the internet) 

He stopped loving me.

I felt angry all the time.

I felt he wasn’t there for me when my dad was ill.

It was always really hard because we were just so different.

It was hard to break up because also we had a lot of things in common.

He made fun of me a lot.

He made me feel stupid.

He was irritated by me and he showed that a lot.

I was angry that he wasn’t better at supporting me emotionally. I was angry that he didn’t get help for his depression. I wanted him to be a different kind of person. I think he wanted the same thing for me.

We stopped getting along in all the small things.

It felt like the balance between us tipped his way and I still don’t know how or why.

He picked away at my self-esteem.

I let him.

Ugh. Anyway. I am attempting to recover from a quite annoying cold/throat infection, as this week is full of many big conferences, and have thus skipped out on our big #HachetteShowcase (hell yes there's a hashtag, for publishing is down there with the masses and the kids on the street where they live (as long as its in Zone 1) don't you know?). It turns out Bob Geldoff was there, which does make me very sad to have missed it, but also I really do feel rubbish. Have cancelled my plans tonight (Shawarma with my friend Ben) and am just determined to have a voice back for the rest of the week and for our upcoming conference on Thursday, where I'm presenting various things that I haven't yet written and probably should. Wow, that was a long sentence, wasn't it? Today I've been reading one of my author's new books - it's not very good, I don't think, but it's hard to tell as it's a few down the series and she's also extremely funny, so I keep forgiving the lack of story owing to the occasional flying bobcat...

I have cooked today - once I failed to get on the train to the #HachetteShowcase, I instead bought everything healthy within range. I've made wild salmon in little foil packets with radish, spring garlic, shallot, satsuma juice (sounds odd, works v well), tarragon and lemon zest. Also roasted vegetables with mint, tarragon, lemon and rosemary, and made a mustardy sort of salad and some crispy salmon skin (nice, but too salty and needs an oil that isn't olive oil). Actually has really helped, even though there's still a lot of me that just wants to curl up in bed again. And I'm happy I've found this blog again, if deeply embarrassed by just how much of the ex there is in it. I wish I knew why it took me so long to feel better. Also, I'm now bare inches from being a childless 35yr old - as dreaded in a previous post - but happily am not bitter about it. A bit worried about inevitable ageing and death and the lack of state support, but not bitter, so that's something, I suppose.

My dad died, also, at the end of 2017. PSP isn't a very nice disease, so in a lot of ways I'm glad that he didn't have to suffer the end of it. In fact, I'm really glad, particularly for my mum. who would have lost years more of her life to caring full time for Dad. He was a really lovely man though, and although we'd spent a lot of time grieving him even while he was still with us, I find I get sudden waves of sadness, rather than a continual ache. On the plus side, my brother is getting married, which will be fun.

Goodness it has been a long time since I wrote anything on this blog. I don't know why - sadly nothing terribly exciting has happened. Ooh - I bought a house, which I'm currently sitting in. My friend Emily and her other friend Amy and I all went on it together. It's pretty weird, tbh. It made a lot of sense (was completely sick of living with my frenemy Sam) and also it's only £500 a month of mortgage (for now, cheers for that Brexit) instead of £1000 in rent. And it's a proper house. With stairs and everything. It is, however, in Norwood. Zone Four. Still London by the skin of its teeth, but Croydon lurks only a few minutes away. We have to do all kinds of work to it (moved in in April) and there's lots of odd bits of furniture. It can be rather lonely as the other two are away quite a lot, but the idea is to sell it in a couple of years, and in the meantime we all have a bit more freedom. Am currently in the dining room. The Dining Room. It leads out to the Patio. It's weird. But nice to be able to have the piano.

About to try and head out to a film club on my own. Sad state of Norwood affairs involving a rat called Terry, a house I bought with a friend who then had the temerity to find an immediate and very serious boyfriend. She's doing her best, but essentially I've ended up living semi-alone in a suburban house with four bedrooms on the outskirts of London, almost in Croydon, with a potential rat problem and a near-certainty that I'm never going to have sex again. On the plus side, the mortgage is only £500 a month so, there's that.

I have decided that I'm no longer going to be this sad and alonely. 2017 is going to be a better year. Yes, the friendship situation is not ideal at present - pretty much every nightmare I've ever had on the ex front has come true in glorious, technicolour, intelligent, blue-sequinned form, but I work with some nice people. And we can sell the house in a year or so hopefully. Also now I know how to re-pressurise a boiler. And sand things. Although power tools remain a terrifying, surprisingly heavy mystery, I'm adulting all over the place. Everything's coming up adult. And yes that is about as depressing and frightening as it sounds. My father... He's still suffering from PSP. It is not a nice disease. My mother is unhappy and angry but not wanting to really understand how much that is the case. My brother's going travelling in about a week and a half for six months, which I'm disgustingly jealous of, but do get to go and visit him, which will be fun.

Most of all, I am not going to allow the horribleness of 2016 to defeat me, or all the scary things about the world, both Trump and Brexit, and much more selfishly the rubbishness of being very, very single at 32 when it is cold and wintery and all your friends and your general life in London feel very far away.

capers

Made a ham, courgette, garlic and basil salad tonight - it was pretty delicious. Had a ham broth from cooking the ham yesterday, cut the courgette very thin and added loads of lemon juice and also fresh coriander. Then heated up the jellified stock and put a dollop of the salad in the middle. Oddly, the final part made it come together: cherry tomatoes. Next time I should definitely leave out the capers though - there's just something about the little green bastards I find really hard to resist.