You’re out of a job. Your housemate plays music and laughs maniacally with her boyfriend until 5am. You get dumped again. You receive notice of an eviction in a few months’ time. You meet someone cool but they’re suddenly not interested. The slightly creepy person you went on a single date with five years ago likes your new online profile. Your bank card stops working. Nobody knows who the prime minister is. The country as you once knew it slides into the sea, and from the bubbling sludge there comes something resembling another Thatcher. Right at this moment, your olive oil develops an ominous growth that neither housemate nor search engine can identify. What do you do? Whither the wary queer?
Down the road, an occupation has sprung up, organised by Sisters Uncut. They are an organisation that “[stands] united with all self-defining women who live under the threat of domestic violence, and those who experience violence in their daily lives”. There is no hierarchy, there are no leaders, and they have been brilliant at bringing the issue of domestic violence to the fore.