My Coronavirus Diaries: London Lockdown Day 27

Pleased to report I still have my shit together.

Well, sort of.

Even though most of the days I do my hair, put on makeup, perfume and good clothes to sit in my garden, lately I’ve been itching for more. I’ve been missing getting ready to go out, you know, the nice dress, the nice shoes, the nice bag.

This morning I had to go out for two things: take the rubbish to the bin and hang the laundry to dry in the garden. I went big, I went all the way. (see photo). I felt normal for a bit. Maybe I look like Miss Havisham, the lockdown version, but it really felt good. I miss so much having somewhere to go.

But other than that, I still have my shit together. Seriously. The occasional waves of sadness and frustration, but no depression and very little anxiety. In my books, this is remarkable, phenomenal and incredible.


Woke up at 7 am

Had coffee in bed

Chatted with friends

Did a few Spanish lessons

Did writing

Did laundry


Chatted with my niece (she thinks I know everything in this world and every time her mother answers one of her (fucking many) questions, she wants to Facetime with me, to doublecheck the answer)

Listened to Rihanna’s Disturbia on repeat (plus other basic songs)

Sat in the garden for five hours, giving myself whole to the sun, to have its way with me. It felt good.

I actually have some work assignments lined up next week (remotely) and now suddenly I have a sense of purpose.

Safe lockdown, darlings.

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