Living alone certainly has its benefits.
For one, everything is situated exactly where I want it to be. I also don’t have to force small talk with rogue housemates, can be as messy as I like without feeling guilty, walk around naked to my heart’s content, and scream cry Holly Valance’s “Kiss Kiss” for hours on end without fear of being reprimanded. The dream.
Family and friends had their doubts about me moving into my own place, late-January. Won’t you get lonely? Won’t you feel isolated?
‘I’ll be fine,’ I assured them at the time.
I thought it’d force me to go outside, socialise and see everyone, but what I hadn’t expected was a worldwide pandemic to rear its ugly head and laugh at my plans to, you know, go outside, socialise and see everyone.
I caught up with a friend of mine last weekend – daily exercise, 1.5 metres apart, the whole thing – and prior to that, I realised, I genuinely hadn’t had contact with another human (aside from our valiant check-out workers) for 4 weeks.
4 fucking weeks. I consider myself a lone wolf at the best of times, but 4 weeks without seeing anyone? ‘Rona’s taking the piss.
Even if you do live with people, you’re still socialising with like 1-3 people at best, which is obviously a huge difference to the endless amount of human interaction we all have on a day to basis.
Yes, it’s important to consider how unbelievably fortunate we are in the grand scheme of things… but that also doesn’t change the fact that iso season can be lonely as shit.
I’ve been on House Party and Zoom like nobody’s business – with the same core group of people, mind you – but there’s just no real substitution for that good ol’ face-to-face interaction. So I‘ve now resorted to having in-depth conversations with my wall, gossiping with my pillow and sorting out the disputes between my plants.
What even is socialisation? I now think myself, after my 6th daily conversation with my plant of the week. What even are greetings? Whomst is English? I don’t know her.
I can’t wait to be reintegrated back into society, don’t get me wrong, but a small part of me has forgotten what it’s like to be out in the public again. Like, imagine being inside a club? Popping your bussy in a confined, sweaty, crowded space? Wild, unfounded scenes.
I think it’s because I’ve become so used to the new norm. Either way, God help me, and God help all us trying to be even-remotely socially competent post ‘Rona.
1 like, 1 prayer.
Good *checks notes* bye.
