I have a confession to make. This newsletter is going out late partly because I’ve got a hangover. I’m really sorry about that. I wasn’t going to admit to this but my good friend Bryony suggested that I should just write about it as it’s relevant. Also given being authentic is one of the main values behind this newsletter, she is right that I shouldn’t hide it. It’s the first proper hangover I’ve had since the UK went into lockdown and because I live with my parents right now, I am currently hiding from them like I would do when I was a teenager. What has my life become?     

It all started when I had a few kitchen disasters while making dinner last night. I poured myself a glass of a Rose Malbec and retreated to the garden to cool down and it tasted so good that I poured myself some more. Then I had a chat on the phone with a friend and had another glass and then it was time for a Zoom hang out with my Shrewsbury friends. It has become a weekly feature to meet on Saturday nights. We each take turns to write a quiz and act as quizmaster, while drinking and having a laugh. It’s actually one of the things I think I’ll miss when all this is over. Before I knew it I had finished the bottle and was shovelling crisps into my mouth while trying not to talk too loudly in case I woke my parents up. Truly I have regressed. 

This morning I woke up really early to write the newsletter* and was feeling pretty rough. I crept downstairs to get a coffee hoping beyond hope that my parents were either still in bed or had gone out (maybe they decided to take their daily walk mega early today, I thought). Of course, we rarely get what we really want in life and both were in the kitchen when I walked in. As I have discussed before, I dislike speaking to anyone before my morning coffee at the best of times, but on a hangover, there is nothing worse. This is one of the reasons I love to live alone normally. 

After a cursory grunt in response to their greetings, I shuffled back upstairs with my coffee and a pint of Berocca. I then stared at the screen unable to write for three hours. I decided food would help so I headed back downstairs to make myself potato waffles (yes I am that basic) and wanted nothing more than to take them back upstairs with me but my mum hates it when I bring food upstairs and I don’t blame her. When I was in my early twenties I moved back in with my parents for a short time and for some reason my group of friends had taken to daytime drinking on a Sunday. I got back one evening very drunk and there was a roast dinner waiting for me to heat up. I desperately didn’t want to hang out with my parents so took it upstairs on a tray and promptly dropped it so the plate landed face down on the floor. Scrubbing gravy out of a carpet while the room spins and your mum yells at you is not an experience I would recommend. So ate while trying to come across as alert and fine before retreating upstairs.

In between staring I have taken the time to have a little weep over the kindness of others. I read a thread on Twitter by someone who works in a mortuary and the supportive tweets floored me. Then one of my best friends, who is a new mum to a tiny newborn, took some time to help me with something this morning, which also set me off. I get emotional hangovers at the best of times but it seems the pandemic has turned me into an emotional wreck. Even without the hangover, I have been crying a lot more than usual, which is saying something as I am already a crier. I can’t be the only one to be feeling really up and down at the moment.

What is it about staying with your parents that makes you revert to teenager behaviour though? I’m a grown woman yet I’m feeling the need not to let on to my parents how much I drank or how rough I feel. The fact is I can do what I like but the reality is I still feel bad about it.

I’m reminded of something I wrote in my Christmas newsletter and discussed on Shani Silver’s A Single Serving podcast about how I sometimes feel like a grown-up kid because I’m single. That’s not to say my married friends who are parents don’t also get hangovers, and I know the ones I was virtually hanging out with last night definitely do but they obviously don’t feel the need to hide it as they aren’t living with their parents. Instead, they have to hide it from their children so maybe we’re not so different afterall.

Anyway, I would have sent this a few hours ago but I then had a Facetime group chat with friends so we could virtually meet the newest and littlest member of our gang. So I hope you’ll forgive the lateness.

*I also don’t usually write it on Sunday morning but I’ve had a really busy week. Because I’m newly freelance, I don’t qualify for any of the government support schemes so even though I have lost work thanks to the lockdown, I have had to hustle for more work. I have been saying yes to any and all work coming my way because of The Fear and not knowing if next week I’ll lose more. The result is I feel quite overwhelmed. Maybe that’s why I needed a bit of a blowout. Solidarity to any other freelancers reading this! 

Stay safe and stay home. 

Oh and a very Happy Easter if it’s something you celebrate.

Nicola 

Twitter: @TheSingleSupp | Instagram: @TheSingleSupplement

What caught my attention

The Life of the Skin-Hungry: Can You Go Crazy from a Lack Of Touch?

This is a fascinating article by Sirin Kale, whose work I absolutely love. I think a lot of you who live alone will relate to this and I know it’s something that really affects me as well. This paragraph stood out to me: “Millions of fibre optic cables connect us to our social networks: friends, followers, email acquaintances, even lurkers. So why do we feel more isolated than ever before? Could it have something to do with the fact that none of these connections involve human touch?”

I Think We’re Alone Now. Welcome.

I loved this perspective from Glynnis MacNicol, who was the author of the first book club book we read. She talks about being used to feeling isolated as a single, childfree woman who lives alone. She says: “It has felt like a tidal wave rushing out to greet me and then carry me away with everyone else. Instead of being alone at sea I am suddenly just another member of a global experience. I am normal.” 

The last gatherings

Like the author of this Hilary Achauer, I have also found myself thinking about the last social gathering I attended. It was my friend’s baby shower (the friend I mentioned above) and afterwards another friend and I went for one pint in a pub (I now refer to this as The Last Pint). I love what Hilary says here: “If I'd known that book club was to be my last gathering, I don't think I would have stayed any later … But I do wish I'd savoured it more. I wish I'd savoured the taste of that chard salad grown in my friend's garden. I wish I'd been able to quiet the noise in my head and fully listen to what my friends were saying. I wish I'd appreciated the natural flow of in-person conversation, where everyone talks at a regular volume and I'm not distracted by my own image in the corner of a screen. I wish I could remember what music was playing, what the artwork looked like on the walls. I wish I'd asked to borrow some books.”

The lowdown 

• I’m excited to say there are now more than three thousand subscribers to this newsletter. I am absolutely thrilled so thanks so much to everyone for reading this. I’m so grateful. If you love it, please do consider forwarding to a friend!

• I wrote for the i newspaper about how the pandemic helped me make a decision I had been putting off for a long time. It’s funny how it has really put things into perspective for me. As I explain in this article, I have now left London and am officially a resident of Shropshire, my home county. I like to see this as the follow up to the article I wrote for Refinery 29 about being single and living alone. It was also a bit of a love letter to my bike (see below).

• I have set up another Zoom meeting on Tuesday at 8pm GMT. Last week’s was so lovely. It was so great to chat to other single people in three different countries. I have put the details in a Facebook event as that seems to make it easier but here is the link as well if you don’t have Facebook. 

• I am going to set up a separate Zoom call to discuss this month’s book club. I will put it in next week’s newsletter. I don’t know about you but I’ve found it really difficult to concentrate so I’m a bit behind reading Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo but I can’t wait to discuss.

• I’m not going to do an Instagram Live today as it’s Easter Sunday so have a variety of calls with family set up for today. I’ll be back to doing that next week and am starting to line up the guests for it!

• I was thrilled that Cheryl Strayed has launched a new podcast called Sugar Calling, where she interviews writers about how they are coping and what advice they have for people struggling. 

About me

For those who don’t know, I’m Nicola Slawson, a freelance journalist who lives in London, UK. I don’t get paid to do this newsletter (maybe one day I will), but if you enjoyed it and would like to buy me a coffee, you can. 

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