I’ve been shielding in my parents’ bungalow since the spring. It’s like Big Brother, circa 2002

As the owner of low-grade lungs in respiratory pandemic, entering house arrest was an easy decision. Perhaps next year will bring probation

“It’s been seven months and 15 days … since Covid took human contact away … ahh-ahh ahhh-ahhhh.” I do my best Sinéad O’Connor impersonation in the bathroom mirror, debating whether a full skinhead would be a solution to my inability to visit the hairdresser.

Honestly, I’ve no idea exactly how long I’ve been in this house. Has it been a year? One particularly long week?

Continue reading…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *