I am so bored with my life. Nothing happens, and nothing will happen, and it’s just the same house and the same work, and the same neighbourhood to walk in. The most exciting thing in my week is a walk to the recycling containers in central Spånga.

The lack of any external stimuli drags my energy levels down. I don’t even want to do any of the things I usually enjoy. I cook dinner without really enjoying it. I knit without really enjoying it. I blog without really enjoying it. The only thing I do is sit in my corner of the sofa and read silly, fluffy, unchallenging books: fantasy romances and werewolves and such.

The good thing (which is maybe also slightly a bad thing) about reading on digital platforms is that I can always just click to get one more. I don’t even need to make the effort of ordering a book and waiting for it.