
When my husband went away for a week, days of blissful alone-time beckoned. Instead, I started talking to household appliances and eating โcrone dinnerโ
My husband is away this week, something that used to happen regularly, but is a post-pandemic rarity. Like, I suspect, many people in long-term relationships, I look forward to a little alone-time (Iโm sure he does, too โ a few carefree days away from me and my dogmatic, dourly expressed opinions on everything from the correct cup for my morning coffee to radio volume). But how enjoyable is it, really? Itโs day five and I realise that, yet again, Iโm following my usual six-stage timeline towards total collapse.
1. The purge
Within minutes of the door closing, and without conscious thought, I find myself kneeling in front of the fridge, excavating decomposing and expired matter, tackling the jar graveyard (grey, ancient, pickled beets and luxuriantly furred pesto) and wiping shelves. Next, I move through the kitchen like a whirlwind, taking out bins, sorting recycling, spraying surfaces and putting everything in its place.
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