Missing the City
I’ve been working from home since March and I still don’t quite know how I feel about it. There is no denying that it has its perks, namely endless cups of coffee and regular cuddles with Huckleberry. And while having my desk in my cosy bedroom is sometimes comforting, it doesn’t hold the same glamour as the big bad city.
I miss the hustle and bustle of the streets as everyone headed in a million different directions to start their days in a million different ways. I miss the random conversations with strangers at the lift or sound of the coffee machine as I chatted to my favourite barista.
I also miss having a reason to get dressed up. On the days I wasn’t deathly hungover, I would strut into the office in my heels and with a full face of make-up and proudly done hair. I’d sometime throw on some red lippy to stand out against my all-black outfits and feel fabulously urban with my overpriced latte in hand. I’m finding sweatpants and slippers just don’t cut it in quite the same way.
Settled at my desk surrounded by my wonderful colleagues, there would always be laugh out loud moments, an outrageous story to swap and a knowing glance to share as someone dealt with a difficult call.
Missing the city life immediately made me think about drinking as I remembered all the cosy pubs, live music venues and cute cocktail bars. I almost always left those places absolutely sloshed and subsequently ruined the rest of my night, but sometimes it’s nice to reminisce with rose-tinted glasses for a little while, as long as we remember to take them off.
I know things won’t be back to normal anytime soon and I very well may be living in a new city by the time they do, but I think tomorrow I might swap out the sweatpants for a nice dress and play pretend. I won’t go so far into my fantasy as to start drinking at 5 pm through to Sunday like the old days but I will have a lovely date night of pumpkin carving and sugar snacks which is good enough for me.