I recently made a plan to meet my best friend for a drink in two months’ time. It was the first date we could both do — not because our diaries are so full, but because we are trying to keep them empty. I started limiting nights out for cost of living-related reasons, but socialising more than a couple of evenings per week now leaves me tired and a bit anxious. I miss my husband and my children, my bum dent on our sofa. I don’t sound much fun to hang out with anyway, do I? It’s not just me. I’ve