Stopped writing about it and started doing it.
329 days in and it looks like I’m going to do it.
Not so difficult once they shut all the shops and you couldn’t go anywhere.
First casualty of coronavirus was the nails. Eventually got them off, poor wretched natural nails hadn’t seen the light of day for about 12 years, and are now, very slowly growing into something approximating nails. Hey ho! No worries, nobody sees them.
Hair not so bad. I can boast that my hairdresser cuts so well I’m still managing. A tiny bit of snipping at a twisted fringe and I’m still good to go. Just nowhere to go to.
So I’ve lived in some sort of boring routine that’s never involved getting ready to go out.
I’ve put the winter items in the loft, got out the shorts and vests. Managing on last years stuff is no problem.
Only briefly on any sort of show, the odd standing at my door for a funeral, putting a frock on for a zoom call, that sort of thing. Mostly just selecting appropriate running gear or something to garden in.
I thought about making something but balked at the price of good material so didn’t bother.
Planning to revamp the sitting room instead. It’s all I see.