Lockdown confessions: I’m, like, basically a teenager now

Lockdown confessions: I’m, like, basically a teenager now


I’m sleeping in, stay in my pyjamas till lunchtime and procrastinate, procrastinate, procrastinate. The other day, I even found myself sitting in the sun, zoning out, going through my overgrown hair for split ends. What was I thinking about? Nuthin’.

Despite my good intentions earlier on, I’m wearing the same things day in and out. Sometimes, on cold nights, I even sleep in my warm knitted tops – just slipping off my bra underneath. Most days, I don’t brush my hair, just run my fingers through it before I head out, resentfully, to the dog park.

The highlight of my day is probably takeaway. I still haven’t packed away the skiing stuff from our failed holiday almost two months ago.

I am out-teenagering my own teenager. 

Thanks to the hormone patches I slap on twice a week, I’m not having any mood swings … so, not quite like the emotional thunderstorms of my youth. And I am still brushing my teeth (yay).

I’m binge-watching crap TV late into the night and spend way too much time on social media. I don’t even cook and I slink away to the computer before anyone asks me to do the washing up.

I start every week with a list of things I want to achieve, turn around and I hear the garbage trucks coming up the street and its Friday again. What happened? Nuthin’.

There’s only one adult in this house now, and it is not me.




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