WEDNESDAY
We live in a small cul-de-sac with a strong sense of community. There’s minimal curtain twitching, and nobody complains about the noise we make – at least, not to us. Maybe it falls in the category of good-natured racket?
I’m still able to get to the supermarket, so I’ll happily pick up bits of shopping for neighbours when I go. I usually wear the husband’s black cycling gloves, which I know make me look slightly menacing. Not sure if that’s good or bad.
I tried going yesterday, after the bank holiday, but the queue stretched for miles so I gave up. Today is much better, and inside the shelves are pretty well stocked. The ‘empty shelf syndrome’ seems to shift weekly, from toilet rolls to pasta, then tinned tomatoes, then eggs. If you want a bag of flour – dream on.
I see someone I know, and we chat across the dairy aisle for a bit. It’s good to see a friendly face, and feels like a worthwhile trip just for that.
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