I love a list. There’s something very
comforting about reading other people’s tips. If you agree with them, you get a
warm glow of fellow feeling. “I’m not the only person in the world who is
offended by hydrangeas! How wonderful.” If, however, you think the person is talking
utter doggy doo, you can huff and puff self-righteously about how they’re wrong
and you’re right. Either way, it’s a win-win situation.
Before you start reading, please refer to
my terms and conditions. “Views expressed are the writer’s own. The writer
may well be talking out of her bottom, due to lack of social contact and
drinking too much sherry at tea time. Please do not use naughty words if you
disagree with the tips.”
OK, so now we’ve got that out of the way,
let’s get on with it.
1.
Stay
in touch with friends and family. We are social animals and loneliness and
isolation build up very quickly in a situation like this. Texts, Facebook
messages, WhatsApps or picking up the phone are easy. Use technology to your
advantage.
2.
There’s
always a way through. Run out of loo rolls? Use newspaper, but don’t forget to
have a dedicated bag for disposal. No flushing! A warm feeling of satisfaction
can be added if you’re repurposing a publication which annoys you. Choose a
columnist who really gets up your nose and do your worst.
3.
Remember
that we’re all in the same boat. At the end of this, we’ll all have terrible
hair. Let’s go back in time to find a solution. During the Second World War,
root retouching and keeping on top of their perms wasn’t number one on the list
for most women. They often chose to cover up their crowning glory with scarves
or turbans. This is your chance to develop a whole new look which will take you
anywhere. Customise your head covering with a home made felt flower, feathers
or fruit. My friend Fiona recently celebrated a big birthday by dressing as
Carmen Miranda (see picture below). Her top tip? Use plastic rather than real
fruit (because of the fruit flies, you see).
4.
Don’t
compare yourself to others. Comparison is the thief of joy. Yesterday I made a
loaf of soda bread, two batches of scones and put all the clothes away. Am I
Super Woman or what?[1]
However, I have an unidentified lump of sticky material matted in my hair (I
suspect golden syrup from an earlier baking experiment), haven’t brushed my
hair for two days and look like a crazy woman. It all balances out.
5.
Surround
yourself with positivity. Don’t be tempted to watch the news and depressing
programmes too much. Build in time to enjoy films, TV, reading, craft, box
sets, baking or whatever floats your self-isolated boat.
6.
If
you are working from home, remember to dress for the occasion. Pyjamas and
slippers are de rigeur for the solitary home worker, but if you are
invited to a conference call, slip on either a plain coloured pyjama top or a
tailored piece and accessorise. A tie works for chaps, a big chunky necklace or
a scarf for ladies. Your work colleagues need never know that beneath the waist
you are clad in a way that would get you arrested on the street!
7.
Exercise
if you can. This could be a bit of stretching, a brisk walk or run or having a
dance to your favourite music.
8.
Don’t
beat yourself up if you feel sad or low or hopeless. We all do sometimes. Reach
out for help, sit outside and get some rays if you can or do something creative
to release endorphins.
Images from Pixabay and Fiona Mearns
Great ideas, especially re-purposing our least favourite newspapers ;) I'd add to the list 'try to learn something new', however tiny. I have learned more about Zoom, screen-sharing and online interactive whiteboards in the last fortnight than I'd ever have wished to, pre-Corona. I'd rather have learned the ukelele or how to make scones that don't come out of the oven as cream crackers. But at least it's useful learning. And that makes me feel a bit less slobbish.
ReplyDeleteGood points all, Fran. Mr Leigh is cock-a-hoop at having mastered something called Microsoft Teams. Definitely a time to learn.
ReplyDeleteHaha! Fab, Ruth. My favourite is Number 2. Also, interestingly, having been a pyjama sloth for years on writing days - lurch from bed to computer chair and get dressed some time before lunch - I'm now getting up earlier, getting dressed, putting on make-up and my rings (without which I feel positively naked) as if going to work. It makes me feel (almost) like a human being with a life, albeit a limited one! Love your posts :)
ReplyDeleteWe have a LOT of newspaper in this house (my husband is an industrial chemist, makes ink for them) so I can choose from a wide selection should the toilet tissue run low. I've been writing in pjs for a while now and it feels good, but I am an earring girl. Without those, I feel naked. Glad you like it!
ReplyDeleteRuth, you are are a treasurable tonic. I have opted to resurrect a very ancient hobby, not considered as predictable by anyone who knows me well, and have ordered online needles, fabric, embroidery hoops and thread. So May will I hope be dedicated in part to making eccentric and unrepeatable crafty things.
ReplyDeleteAggie, that must be the most delightful alliterative compliment I've ever received! Thank you very much indeed. How marvellous! I am up to my neck in the late 18th century at the moment writing a series of short stories and you have just reminded me about embroidery hoops and tambours! I will refer to those in my story - was casting about for a hobby for the heroine. Brilliant!
ReplyDelete