For the most part, my boyfriend and I are missing relatively few things and focus on the positives. he doesn't have his 50 minute commute to and from work any more, and I get to cycle to the museum on relatively traffic free streets 3 days a week, which feels a little like freedom.
But last week, I had the oddest craving for something that really can't happen now, won't happen for a long time and I was never really into in the first place.
I craved, to the point where it was an itch in my brain, a spa day.
I wanted to be wrapped in fluffy white bathrobes, handed cool glasses of sparkling Prosecco, have someone deep tissue massage my shoulders, have my fingernails painted, my faced oiled and smoothed, dip in and out of a turquoise mosaic-ed pool. Eat delicious tiny things that someone else had made. Read magazines Tatler and Vogue while poolside. Drink more Prosecco.
I don't even like Prosecco. And I'd rather eat a hearty stew than faffy little bits of melon arranged in a pretty pattern.
I never paint my fingernails.
What the heck brought that on? Possibly a desire to be looked after arising from weeks of feeling a little out of control? Possibly a deep wish to be far away from the current panic and somewhere cushioned from all that?
Anyway, I did it. I googled a few. Maybe next year. Then I painted my own fingernails as compensation. I quite like the way they wink at me as I type, even on my short, stubby fingers.
What's been your weird lockdown craving?