A not so Dry January...

Anyone who knows me well will know I never had any intention of a Dry January, but neither did I envision one so saturated. In my defence out of these first 9 days only a handful have been overflowing, and those not only with gin and wine, but also the tears of defeat and the sweat of defiance. Or something similarly poetic.

The first crack in my resolve came on Monday 4th January. An altogether unremarkable day, save the fact my dad dropped me back in London ready for the start of a new term at drama school. But oh, what a sledgehammer of news came along to shatter everything at 8pm that evening. Yes, you guessed it, it's the announcement of Lockdown 3 - spoiler alert for anyone who still thought they were living in the heydays of the tier system. Although it did not come as a surprise, it nevertheless came like a hailstorm to batter my already brittle and breaking resolve. Coupled with the news that schools and universities - including mine - would be forced onto online teaching for the next 5 weeks at the very least. A devastating revelation, not least as I had told myself throughout the last lockdown that the only thing getting me through was the fact I had in-person teaching. Nevertheless, things are as they are, and so I begin my search for the next big thing that will get me through this Lockdown, and I swear it shall not come in a corked bottle! (or a screw top! I'm closing up that loophole, don't worry). Needless to say this news brought with it the need for a G&T in which to drown our sorrows, so Kevin, Caroline and I cracked one open, and its bitter tonic did help remedy the saltiness of my mood. Or was that the halloumi dinner I could taste?

But, Tuesday morning came, and with it the resolve to 'make the best of it' (this is my mum's new catchphrase of choice, and I will be getting it tattooed on my chest. Love ya mum.) It becomes the little things (not just the little gins) that get us through these long, winter days, and many of these little things come in liquid form. For example, I have decided to take more baths, drink as many cups of tea as I like without my sister judging me, and to sleep with a hot water bottle if it's cold (or even if I'm just a little sad), because we all need little things - or liquid things - to help us through.

My other - much healthier - liquid resolution has been to use the next 5 weeks to set good habits. Everyone knows the importance of routine - Christ, we've had it rammed down our throat the whole year with influencers, psychologists and everyone's aunt reminding us of just how crucial it is to give yourself some sort of structure. But primarily my routine, albeit a flexible one, is to sweat more. Yup, that's right - even in the depths of winter. I have become new best friends with Kevin and Caroline's exercise bike which currently lodges in the loft, coated in a fine layer of dust, sweat and a sprinkling of regret (much like myself). There is something wildly cathartic about quite literally sweating out the stresses of the day, and when your body is too tired to muster the energy to worry, it can be a wonderful antidote to the rising film of anxiety that begins to coat everything just as soon as we wake up in the morning! (WARNING: I am by no means a medical professional, nor apparently flawless in looking after myself, so please do exercise or slob out responsibly - I shall be doing a healthy balance of both, no doubt, especially since I am writing this self-congratulatory blog from my bed eating copious handfuls of hummus-loaded pitta chips. I know how to binge in a suitably boujie way!). But check back here for progress updates on my body, as it seesaws between cardio and calorie overload over the rollercoaster that is Lockdown 3.

Finally, though, I do come back round to alcohol. As I am wont to do. And not just drinking this time - oh no - its far more exciting, outlandish and altogether more devilish cousin. Day-drinking. It wasn't merely a moment of weak resolve or a desire to drink away the sunlight, but this alcohol-infused afternoon was courtesy of my wonderful Catherine. As best buds go she's an all round good egg, but being millions of miles away and 8 hours ahead means we rarely get the chance to get drunk together. But today was that day. 3pm my time, 11pm hers. A herculean effort on both parts to play Bridget Jones' Diary on Netflix at *almost* exactly the same time. Several gins later and there we were - merry together, despite the miles. It was by the far most exciting plan I had in the calendar this weekend, and - as sad as this might seem - it felt like an event. An occasion. An excuse to get a bit silly, be a bit giggly, and just not give a damn.

So, as you can see, the next few weeks may seem a bit bleak and barren, but with just a little watering (with any liquid of your choice; tears, sweat, gin, juice, or all of the above in a cocktail I've named 'the Lockdown antidote') it's amazing what might grow. And although I have written this list of banal and somewhat baffling solutions, know that sometimes there is no solution, or the solution that is right for you in the moment is not right for you in the next. In this mad world and these unhinged times we just have to do what feels right and good, whenever it feels right and good (within the bounds of the law - I see you!). And as soon as things are better, we will do the same, only what feels right and good might finally be to drink with every Tom, Dick and Harry, hug a string of strangers and make out with mannequins (long live retail, am I right?!). We'll come out the other side, perhaps a little saturated with our screens or ourselves, but it's only temporary. All this will evaporate and we will be cleansed of everything this last 10 months has put us through.

Lots of love to you all - especially those who this situation is hitting hardest, whether that be physically, mentally, or emotionally. Those who are working tirelessly to battle this black hole. Those whose families and friends have suffered at its hands. Those whose anxiety has been spiked by bad news fatigue. Anyone and everyone who is feeling isolated in these times of self-isolation. You are not alone.

Anyway - mushiness over - I had to end with something a bit wet, or else I wouldn't have come full circle back to my title in the oh-so-brilliant way I always manage to do. Someone bring the tissues to mop up this mess, and I'll pour another glass. Cheers!