For most of my country's lockdown, I have been having weekly Monday massages courtesy of my friend Lorna. That equates to roughly 68 weeks and a lot of back rubs. My human body has begun to thrive with the therapeutic massage. We were discussing how I will cope once I have moved. She is one of the few human beings that I can't replicate on a zoom meeting. She did say that she heard Durban has massage therapists, plus hairdressers. We laughed. But I have toyed with that concept of those essential services being replaced.
The interesting aspect of me moving now after/during lockdown is that technology has fleshed (pun intended) out a lot of relationships. This means that over the period of 68 weeks, friendships changed to voicenotes and video calls.
Earlier this year I enquired about a job in one of the coastal towns and I got a response. The possibility of me moving away then, almost petrified me at the thought of leaving behind all that is familiar and safe. It really jolted me into thinking 'could I possibly do this?' But then, I wasn't ready. It did, however, prime me in a way to be ready for this step, albeit a few short months later.
P.S. these aren't my feet. I have runners toenails
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