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This year is both the longest and the fastest in the history of the known universe!

I have approximately zero time and way too much to do, but wanted to hop in and just leave a note for my future self about how fucking weird it is to be living through a pandemic while single, self employed and childfree.

I mean, I think it’s weird for everyone living through this – but I can only record what it’s like for me, right?

While starting to make notes for my annual review I realised it’s going to be an odd one, and I’m writing this from the middle of a second national lockdown in England. Four more weeks of things closed, no indoor or garden meetups, only being allowed to see one person from one household outside at once.

The studio is closed again (and we’ve today had a totally tone deaf demand for extra money which I am deeply cross about), and my income has dropped again, and quite honestly I’m fed up to the back teeth with the whole thing.

I just want my normal life back. And I know, I know it’s not just me, I know I’m among the lucky ones but I am allowed to feel fed up, and today that is my overwhelming emotion.

It’s increasingly hard to get motivated and up and going, even though I love my work and I love that my businesses are my work life now. Loving them with my whole heart doesn’t seem to have any impact on the hideous lethargy which has been creeping, creeping this whole year and now means it takes what feels like superhuman effort just to get out of bed in the morning.

I’m still achieving insane amounts of stuff, including filming my first video series for a client, and absolutely smashing the launch of the TEMPRD website – and I’m so proud of myself and my various little businesses. But OH GOD THIS YEAR IS HARD WORK and not in a good way.

Somehow still struggling to find time to relax – totally missed my Slowcation, I managed two days off in two weeks and then was back in full pelt. And despite lockdown I seem to be running around like a headless chicken and still not getting everything done that everyone needs me to do. Deadlines have never been an issue for me but this year I’m finding them more difficult to meet.

I can also sense changes coming in my friendships and my family and myself – but right this moment, it feels like we’re all suspended in time. No one knows what will be allowed in December, or at Christmas, let alone next year, so no one can make any plans, everything feels super tentative, and it’s kind of like swimming through glycerine. Or treacle. But treacle would at least taste nice!

Good stuff – new office chair got rid of hip pain I’d had for five years, in 48 hours. Kayak dreams are slowly building. Although lockdown killed my amazing record breaking month, the fact I managed to do it has changed my money mindset, hopefully permanently. Filofaxes and fountain pens make me really, really happy. Kittens are cuddly and wonderful. I co-own a chocolate factory. Ink Drops subscribers are picking up. This week I read an entire book (Jojo Moyes’ The Giver of Stars) in a 24 hour period for the first time since the start of the year.

It’s not all bad, it’s just tough times right now. And this blog turns 16 this month, and for such a long time it’s been my outlet, my diary, my therapist – it seems strange that I don’t update it often any more, but life just kind of gets in the way and I have so many other demands on my time.

So every now and again, I pop in and stream-of-consciousness my way to a small record of my life, which will be easier to find than notebooks. Although potentially more susceptible to future shit than notebooks, I suppose…!

Six months later... (or five, or seventy-two - time has no meaning any more)