I feel bad about feeling bad.
I'm as flat as a tac and confident I wouldn't be good company to anyone even if I was allowed to keep it.
COVID-19 restrictions or not, I've got everything I need, so I don't feel I have a good enough excuse to be all kinds of miserable.
I am successfully 'working from home' and my three teenage daughters are ticking along with their 'remote learning' in years eight, 10 and 12.
We have more than enough food, warmth, shelter and additional comforts - so why am I feeling so dismal and cheerless?
Is it because we're all grieving the company of friends; bereft for interactions with different people who have a variety of mannerisms, stories, ideas, voices, fragrances and energy levels?
People who aren't boring old annoying us ... again?
I asked my 18-year-old if she thought spending some time with other people would make us appreciate each other more, but she said she didn't think her connection with her four significant others could ever be mended.
The only thing we did wrong was to be her constant companions 24/7 for eight weeks non- stop.
Although, she did share these feelings of animosity before launching into an emergency trip to the supermarket - for 'supplies'- that was actually a mental health break.
It's just a rollercoaster ride of frustration mingled with the knowledge that we are living in the lucky country and we can't really complain
On her return, and after eating a whole box of Barbeque Shapes, she seemed quite happy to play computer games on her phone with her sisters.
It's just a rollercoaster ride of frustration mingled with the knowledge that we are living in the lucky country and we can't really complain.
I'm trying to focus on the fact that this season will pass like any other - so I planted a tree to remember it by - it's a liquidambar.
The word 'liquid' symbolizes for me the fluidity of COVID-19s effect on my mental, emotional, physical and spiritual wellbeing, and the beauty of movement and change, which hopefully leads to new growth.
The 'ambar' part points to amber; tree sap trapped under great pressure until it turns into a precious gem.
I can only hope that the pressure cooker of my home with three teenage daughters in lockdown will produce some kind of special gems when we are unearthed again.