Is it just me, or have we all gotten kind of used to this slowed-down pace of life?


The quiet nights in,

The time to reflect with our own thoughts.

I’ve even made my peace with queuing for the supermarket – it’s nice not to have someone breathing down my neck in the vegetable aisle.


For a whole year, I haven’t had to make one single excuse for not going to a party, or a writing session, or a night out, when maybe I’m just not feeling it. And of course, I’m beyond excited to see my family and friends again… to cuddle my new-born nephew and throw my arms around mates at the pub… but there’s a little part of me that’s terrified. Of plans. Of the future. Of the social pressures and expectations that come naturally with normal life.


It feels wrong to say it out loud, because this year has been so painful for so many, and so difficult for those working around the clock to keep the world spinning. I will never be able to express the extent of my gratitude to those people. And the light at the end of the tunnel is bright and extremely comforting.


It’s just that real life is a little daunting, right? It feels like the rat race is about to begin again…the starting pistol is about to go off and we’ll all have to start sprinting through life as we did before.


Anyone else feeling this?

Maybe it’s just me.