The MM Isolation Chronicles Part Four – Jude…

Move over mum guilt.
House guilt is so yesterday.
There’s a new game in town.

Furlough guilt.

Weeks off work and the government pays you 80% of your salary. And if you’re lucky
your employer tops it up. No reason to feel guilty, right?


The sun’s been shining, and I’ve enjoyed being in the garden. The house is super
tidy, and the washing and ironing is always done. Cupboards have been cleared and
clothes sorted for the charity shop. Joe Wicks workouts and glorious family walks.
Zoom quizzes and family Facetime. Virtual get-togethers with plenty of gin…and
there’s no work in the morning.

But finding out what your friends are doing via WhatsApp groups (currently a new
world record at 297) is raising the game in the mum/house guilt stakes. Are they
really decorating to an Instagram standard? And where are they getting their paint
from? Did they really cook that plate of food? And are their kids really up and home-
schooling by 9am, without moaning?

Of course not. Get a grip.

While I’m worrying about these things, I still wholeheartedly appreciate that there are
people still working. The amazing NHS and care workers; people in shops, delivery
drivers, teachers, transport workers, police … the real frontline workforce.

And the tens of thousands of small business trying to keep afloat, doing the do in an
uncertain world where who knows what the next challenge will bring. A fierce but
depleted Team Mustard team is doing just that, keeping our company going, looking
after our clients while the rest of us are furloughed. And this is where my furlough
guilt starts.

Confession time, it’s raining. My washing and ironing are endless. How are they
managing to wear so many clothes when we’re not going anywhere? I’ve only
cleaned out one cupboard, so there’s only one bag for the charity shop (when I know
there could be ten)

And I’m probably* drinking too much.

We have a daily family walk and some days it’s lovely and some days it’s not. But
that’s okay.

I’m so grateful that we are all well and I know that I am lucky in so many ways. The
human spirit is alive and well in my world; from clapping for carers every Thursday
when our whole village comes out, to helping and supporting family, neighbours and
friends. And don’t even get me started on Captain Tom.