Current mood: It’s not a crisis. It ’s a permacrisis.

‘Lawfare’. ‘Partygate’. ‘Sportswashing’. Three of the most annoying words to sit beside one another since ‘can you just…?’ (there is no such thing as just). They’re also a handful of the entries on Collins Dictionary’s words of 2022, and a linguistic snapshot of a year of chaos. ‘Carolean’ also made it on there, so is ‘Kyiv’. Ditto ‘vibe shift’ – the shift, one assumes, being from bad vibes to worse ones.

Unsurprising then, in a year which has given us three Prime Ministers, two monarchs, rising inflation and endless sleepless nights that the reigning word of the year is this: ‘permacrisis’ referring to ‘an extended period of insecurity and instability’. Well, duh! If you wanted to ‘quiet quit’ (yep, on there too) the rest of the year – or for that matter, quit with volatility and volume – who could blame you?

Some weird comfort to be found in the ‘permacrisis’ triumph, however. Namely that it is a reminder of how unsettling the last 12 months (and, frankly, beyond) have been. There has been no downtime, no silly season for the news. It’s been unrelenting: bam, bam, bam. To live with the constant white noise of uncertainty is discombobulating, anxiety-inducing. That crisis mode has become something of a default doesn’t make it comfortable. Familiar, perhaps, but not comfortable. Nevertheless we’re still standing; a slump certainly counts. I’d like to suggest a footnote to ‘permacrisis’: ‘permaresilience’. That’s you, that’s me, that’s all of us weary travellers trudging through 2022.

The good news, I guess, is that we’ve made it to November. What else could possibly go wrong this year? Ha! Plenty! But 2023 can only get better. Although I think I said that this time last year.

Laura