A good case for taxidermy

On Saturday we took a slow, easy trip into Central London to have lunch, see a film and basically do what the average couple does on a weekend, because it’s been months since I’ve left our borough and I’m finally feeling somewhat stable again after my most recent pregnancy fiasco.

I know exactly how to plan and execute a day that won’t overwhelm me now, or cause massive amounts of pain, which might sound pathetic but is nowhere near as sad as spending entire weekends wrapped in blankets, napping and reading and napping and occasionally emerging for food.

It was a lovely day out anyway, and it reminded me of all the reasons I love this city. I can’t wait to tackle it when I’m back to my old self again, and this time with a new little Londoner in tow!

For now, I find the prospect of leaving the house to do anything on my own entirely unnerving. I’ve been working from home for the last three weeks, and I can no longer remember how to screw up the courage to deal with strangers in a confident manner when the last thing I want to do is come face-to-face with another human being (one I don’t share covers with, anyway).

In the next few minutes I’ll brush my teeth, put on some clothes that I haven’t been sleeping in and head out down the street to have my teeth cleaned. A straightforward process, perhaps, but one that fills me with a nameless dread that almost makes tooth decay sound like the easier option. Ditto on the yoga classes I begin tomorrow after I finish my work – it will be my first ever recreational encounter with a group of strangers, and the fact that they are all pregnant does nothing to reassure me.

My friend from back home has just moved to Wales and is planning to visit me next week, so I’ll be able to dust off my social skills and give them a bit of a workout then. I don’t think the language that couples develop together and use fluidly with one another necessarily counts as a skill, so it’s a long time coming.