Yesterday began in a deeply inauspicious fashion, a couple of RetroChic gigs for the summer that had been sitting in the diary for a while finally cancelled, and then some work as far ahead as October (October!) being described to me by the organiser as optimistic. It may only have been yesterday when I mused about things returning to normal perhaps in September, but maybe we need to be thinking of a year from now instead.

I fell, briefly, into a little bit of a mental hole, but then switched into proactive survival mode. How am I going to get through to whenever it might be in this new age? What should my priorities be?

More ominously, and pushed to the back of my mind, what happens if the time I would have spent with certain people runs out while we are all still locked down? This is what it is, after all, but some of the harsh realities of the situation are still only now beginning to sink in.

Today will be better, though, I am sure, not least because any more cancellations will no longer take me by surprise, no longer push back the boundaries of how far ahead this wave might travel. There are other things to do and other opportunities to chase, so it is a chase of changing direction ever so slightly, but it can be done.

More Amy Beach, though, and more tapping yesterday, with a little bit of relaxation, just to take the emphasis off running to stand still, and a growing immersion in reading, quiet and calm. Maybe, after all, and unlikely thought it seems, there will be some things that we shall miss about this.