It was a weird day today.
Carole was back in the office for the first time in however long it has been. Which meant that there was no sounds of her frantic typing coming through the kitchen ceiling, no random moments when I could hear her talking and wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or on some sort of zoom call (she’s come on in leaps and bounds since week one of lockdown where each call was done in a booming loud voice).
It was weird to not know when lunch time was because nobody appeared demanding to be fed and watered.
A day without casually abandoned (ethical) straws being left in the kitchen.
A day without an update about the quality, or lack thereof, of satsumas within the fridge.
A day without random visits, and then repeat visits, because she’s forgotten to bring down her glass from upstairs for a drink refill. Or forgotten to take it back upstairs with her. Either is possible.
It was very strange.
I enjoyed it. But equally I really didn’t enjoy it.
The house felt very wrong. It’s hard to explain.
She’s here tomorrow, though.
That’ll be good.