It’s time to reflect on the positives, like all the reunions to come. Start buying lip balm

My wishes for this year are more laser-focused than usual. I want the same as everyone else: to see my family more; to hug friends; to move through life unencumbered by an awareness of every particle that lands on my skin; to squeeze once more through tight-packed crowds of sweaty, bleating strangers. It’s been a massive blow to my brand to realise that I – me! – miss large gatherings on wet days, or mediocre pints in dreary pubs, or gardens teeming with people shushing you for talking during Ireland football matches, even though talking during Ireland matches is the only way it is medically possible to get through Ireland matches.

In March, I joked that, when this all ends, I intend to french kiss every one of my friends for 45 minutes apiece. That seemed like a funny length for a snog, presuming an affection gap lasting, say, 12 weeks. How naive I was. After nine months, I now see I criminally underestimated my pangs. Each of my pals should put aside two business days and start buying Chapstick by the box.

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