When lockdown began, chronic illness meant I’d already been stuck at home for a couple of years. It was my own self-isolation before self-isolation was in the lexicon, except with less sourdough. I won’t say I was used to missing the world outside my bedroom because it is never a thing you truly get used to. House plants are not great conversationalists. A glass of wine in a restaurant is a thing of beauty to long for. But you adapt, because circumstances are demanding like that.