Busy doing nothing ...

Remember that silly song? It came into my head today and took up residence, annoyingly - but it's how I feel about now. Theoretically I have very little to do: the food has to be ordered and collected and put away once a week, and some of it cooked daily and put on plates. That shouldn't take much time - and it doesn't, actually, in the scheme of things. But what is this scheme of things? Today there was the one fixed point - the zoom church service at 10.30am. I even put on earrings - not simply because a lurking need to "dress for church" prompted me to do the only thing that might be visible, but because I started worrying that the holes might close up through disuse. And the coffee afterwards with our friends took about an hour. We managed not to talk about politics at all, but I'd already blown up somewhat over breakfast and had had enough.

So that's us. Lunchtime already and two things done. Time to get out - because this imperative to exercise isn't diminishing at all. Sunday, so we didn't want to be where there would be people and dogs - and this meant the road up Glen Massan as opposed to the path on the other side of the river. I wanted to be back in time to put dinner on earlier than usual because we were having roast beef for the first time in aeons and if we have it too late I want to go for walks at midnight ... So that was a bit of a rush. Good for the cardio workout ...

So it's after 5pm, dinner's in the oven, and I've not done today's Italian. I'm in the diamond league just now, and pride won't let me relax. I'm also almost at a 300 day streak of a lesson a day, and I don't want to blow that either. So I run upstairs, do three lessons, run back down to take the meat out, fit in another lesson while it relaxes. I do not relax.

Every day feels like this. Real pressure, brought on solely by myself. Why can't I look out at a grey afternoon and decide to fall asleep over my book? Why can't I be retired in peace? And I realise that the problem is the lack of other people just now, the lack of deadlines - catch a boat, go on a plane, get my hair done - and a resulting lack of times when I simply can't be doing Italian or whatever other huvtae is currently ruling my life.

In fact, when I went back to teaching after 8 years out bringing up my boys to school age, I used to say that it was more demanding being at home all day. At least in school you had your non-contact time, and your intervals when all you did was drink coffee. (I put a comma after "time" so that there's no suggestion that we did nothing in our non-contact periods.) I suspect that retirement is the same, unstructured and therefore rushed, and Plague time is even worse because we have to get through it on our own.

And now I have to get to bed because if I don't I'll feel rubbish in the morning and I have Pilates at 10 ... Blipping the farm in the cradle of the Glen Massan hanging valley. Slightly damp, but sweet-smelling and peaceful, and a favourite place.