COMMENT:
My wife's laughter used to light up the room. Now it is a witch's cackle that haunts my dreams. In lockdown, it has become nails drawn down a blackboard. It puts my teeth on edge. Before our isolation, I never realised just how annoying she could be.
The main issue is the enforced office share. BC (before corona), we worked long hours, mainly apart. She travelled extensively, affording me the luxury of several nights a week on my own, in peace. Reunion was always fun and a chance to reconnect. My days are office-based and the office is my domain. Quarantine changed all that. Thankfully, we are no less busy and still work long days, but we share the same 10ft x 10ft space now, which she reconfigured, placing me at the back while she sits by the door.
Her days are a carnival of high-energy virtual meetings and phone calls. She is upbeat and positive, so each one is punctuated with witty anecdotes and laughter. At first, I chuckled too. But now I've heard the jokes a hundred times and instead of smiling, I simmer with bored resentment, imprisoned in my corner of the office, unable to pass and go to the toilet without appearing in shot. I read out loud to blank out the sound.
The corona virus has chiselled schisms into our impenetrable marriage. Our lifestyles, interests and tastes are largely the same, but differ slightly and those differences, which we formerly celebrated, have become festering sores in lockdown.