Serious boredom is setting in. Starting to think about all the things I would like to be doing but can’t. Going to a movie, getting the largest popcorn and gigantic Coke and sitting in a dark room for a few hours. Or getting a chicken kebab. Or going for a pint. Or going to Tesco to do the shopping without fearing for your life. Or getting on an airplane and going somewhere nice. Watching a baseball game that wasn’t played last year or longer ago.
I like going for walks and sitting in the garden in the sunshine listening to music or just staring up at the blue sky. But I am starting to need more than than that. Maybe it would be different if I was working, but I won’t be doing that for at least a month if not longer. I have not been on a train to London (or anywhere) since 17 March. I haven’t been more than 10 miles from home since 19 March when Charlie and I went to Birmingham to get his stuff. So yes, starting to suffer from Small World Syndrome.
And it’s not just the wanting to do a lot of things but not being able to. It’s not having any idea when you will be able to do them. So I will sit here thinking about the last trip I took, to Lucca in January, and dream of the day I will be there again.
