I have a bad habit of walking through my front door in the evening, flopping onto the couch and exclaiming “what a week”, to which my husband usually replies with a bemused, “it’s Wednesday”. Or if we’re in the middle of a particularly grim time, he might shockingly reveal that actually “it’s Monday”.

We’ve only just ticked off Easter but already I feel like doing the same thing with this year. One third of the way through 2021 and I’m absolutely wrecked by it. The return to work and school and some sense of normality after the extended lockdowns of 2020 is exciting but tiring. And the news cycle is utterly relentless.