I had weird dreams where my Dad was talking to me about my Nottingham friends, and he kept saying ‘Don’t let them forget who you are’.
Left me feeling a bit weird when I woke up.
The weather was horrific, and I was still feeling really shit, although my period had stopped completely.
Because of my dream, I turned on my phone to check my messages and e-mails.
I went in to my work e-mail account, and it defaulted to the bar account instead of my personal one. There were loads of e-mails about orders, out of date stock, and reopening…
I looked at the figures. Turned out the bar re-opened for takeaway yesterday.
The people who were ccd in to the e-mails were my management team, so obviously they’re off furlough now and running the show.
I feel really guilty for not being there to help re-open and run things. To do my job. But I know I can’t.
I can’t for two reasons – my mental health still isn’t 100%, and I’m technically ‘shielding’.
Even if I wasn’t officially shielding, I would be very wary about going back. It’s pretty much an annual occurrence that I get a cold, and end up having to go to A&E to be nebulised because of an asthma attack, so I don’t think my lungs would deal with Covid too well…
Still, it’s been really nice to be able to be off work, and not have that niggling guilt that my colleagues (and friends) workloads are increasing because I’m not there. I’ve had no job to go to. I’ve been on furlough, so I’ve been able to relax a bit. There has been absolutely zero pressure to get well and return to work, because my job hasn’t actually existed for the past few months.
Now that’s changed.
It’s a huge change. The biggest since lockdown began. An awful lot to get my head around.
I spoke to my parents a bit about how shit I was feeling about it.
Shortly afterwards, my Mum came upstairs with a big package for me. She said someone must have known that I needed cheering up. My ballet stuff had arrived!
The shoes are huge (not the ones pictured – these are my pointe shoes that I got when I was like 17), so I’m going to send those back, but I now have leotards and tights, and this tacky little tutu (which is completely unnecessary, but it was only like a tenner).
I was very quiet during lunch. I had so much on my mind.
I really didn’t feel like doing much with my day again, but my ballet gear motivated me to do a class. It was the advanced one, so it left me with quite the sweat on, and feeling pretty knackered.
Because I was so sweaty and gross, I washed my hair. I felt quite a bit better after that, and like I had accomplished something with my day.
I still had those nagging guilty and curious thoughts about work in the back of my mind though.
We were having curry for dinner, and while my parents got it ready, we talked a bit more about my feelings of guilt, worry, and pressure. They reiterated exactly what I wrote earlier in this post – there are two perfectly valid reasons as to why I’m not there atm. I just need to accept that, and try to stop feeling guilty about it. Give myself a break, and stop beating myself up.
I watched a bit of Breaking Bad after dinner, but my tutu was staring at me from across the room, so I decided to watch another ballet on YouTube.
I went downstairs to get a drink before starting it, and my parents were on a Zoom video call to my Dad’s uni friends.
He did a Chemistry degree at Oxford before training to be a Doctor, and it was Keble College’s anniversary, so they were all raising a glass to celebrate. My parents had said that they were only going to be on the call for an hour, but this was like an hour and a half in, and they (particularly my Dad) appeared to be having a whale of a time. I bought him another glass of wine, and he insisted that I popped my head on to say hello.
He said later that he likes to show me off, which was nice to hear. It really seemed to mean a lot to him.
I spent the rest of the evening watching The Nutcracker by a Russian ballet company that was filmed in 2012.
The lead is played by a child in the first act. I googled it, and she was 12 when it was filmed. She was en pointe and all that jazz. She was incredible. My Dad said the next day that it was child abuse, but I said that if she wanted to do it then good for her. I would have killed to have been dancing Clara en pointe in a huge theatre when I was 12, no matter how bad it was for my feet!
I love the second act, when all the different nationalities dance. I remember the music so well from Disney’s Fantasia. It’s iconic.
I felt a bit better after my ballet day, but still a bit rattled now that the bar is back up and running again, and I’m not there.