But what if I like my cosy, tracksuit-lined pandemic bubble?

The thing that rhymes with “tandemic” has left us all slightly in bits. We’re being told that we’re entering the roaring 20s and that it’s going to be 24/7 decadence and sweaty dancing ahoy. But as I swap my summer tracksuit bottoms for my winter ones, like a UK petrol tank, my fun levels are deeply in the red. I’ve no holiday booked to Mykonos, no cocktail nights with the gals planned and the wildest...