42nd stage of pandemic-related grief. The other day my housemate and I found ourselves telling stories of touch – the touch of hairdressers, masseuses, little children playing with our hair, aunts kissing us on the cheeks, and then that whole other universe of getting physical… I hope I won’t have to live to be an old lady telling children about the olden days of clubbing and sweat exchange… Anyway, that’s what I fantasize about a lot!!! “I need something more”