Unmoored from all but a few friends, I fear lockdown has atrophied my social muscles | Emma Brockes

It may not last, this urge to flee even virtual contact with other humans in favour of box sets and bed. But what if it does?

How has it been, all this time?" A casual acquaintance - the mother of a vague friend of my children - asked this question on the street, from behind a mask and at a safe social distance. We hadn't seen each other for months, and my children had drifted from hers, as they had from all but a handful of friends. We regarded each other curiously, reminded in the moment of how strange this all was. Fine," I said reflexively. It's been fine."

I have no idea if this is true. For those lucky enough to have avoided catastrophic health or economic losses, measuring the cost of the last year can be hard. How, in fact, are we doing? I have watched my kids adapt, with an almost seamless ability, to online learning and no indoor playdates. We have grown accustomed to barely leaving the neighbourhood and not seeing family for over a year; and, on the rare occasions when we have a babysitter, to wearing masks inside the house. Meanwhile, we are unmoored from all but a handful of close friends. If it is fine - and it is largely fine, or at least it is this week - I also wonder if some social muscle has atrophied and we have become weird. A year ago, it was weird having to stay in all the time. Now the idea of going out, going anywhere, seeing anyone or doing anything, fills us in the first instance with dread.