Friday night, stuck alone in the flat. Nowhere to go; no-one to talk to. R has gone to bed early, not feeling well. Not that he was here of course, but alone too, feeling the same frustrations as me.
And the fact that he went to the supermarket yesterday and was concerned how close he came to other shoppers. That has of course made me worry somewhat that he might have caught it. And a future version of ourselves came hovering over me like an infestation of locusts. How it would suit my destiny that I might be deprived of him when I need him the most.
As I am writing this I consider how much I am missing his company. Just the fact of hanging out together. Our phone calls are a second best. I cherish them to but it's not the same. The sooner this plague is over the better. I dream of the time I can join him at the house. Just to share a glass of wine on the grass, watching the sunset, in the warm summer evening.
It's been a tough few days. I just cannot seem to focus on anything. I'm aiming to do some sort of technical study that might help me with my career, but just can't seem to set my mind to it. I took just one call today, advising that the role I had applied for would not be suitable. Others have just not called back.
I worry that I became institutionalised in my last role, and didn't adapt enough to the next generation. I have stalled. My career has stalled. And now my life is stalled.
The neighbours are driving me mad. Either from the halfway house across the road, or the ones living above me, or the ones living across the corridor from me. They are all equally irritating. And sometimes I just stand at my balcony and try to breathe in the evening air, wondering how it might be quite soon.
It might be but perhaps not quite soon. This thing is going to take a while, I am sure. I will be stranded here for months and unable to go outside. This is what confinement means. How little did we consider what these months would bring when we toasted in the the new year. The curve is flattening, the sombrero is squashed, but not dented. The status quo persists, and for how long?
I look at Instagram or Twitter and can see that most other people are in a similar situation. And thankfully we do have social media in order to take a view out on to the world. They didn't have that in 1918. When my great grandfather was recovering in hospital he must have had no idea on the condition of his daughter, my grandma. And we also understand the disease a lot better than back then. Is that a consolation though, to know our terrible destiny before it comes to us?
Let's see what tomorrow brings. I have food in my fridge, television, internet, and R on the end of the line or on Whatsapp. We will get through this.
And the fact that he went to the supermarket yesterday and was concerned how close he came to other shoppers. That has of course made me worry somewhat that he might have caught it. And a future version of ourselves came hovering over me like an infestation of locusts. How it would suit my destiny that I might be deprived of him when I need him the most.
As I am writing this I consider how much I am missing his company. Just the fact of hanging out together. Our phone calls are a second best. I cherish them to but it's not the same. The sooner this plague is over the better. I dream of the time I can join him at the house. Just to share a glass of wine on the grass, watching the sunset, in the warm summer evening.
It's been a tough few days. I just cannot seem to focus on anything. I'm aiming to do some sort of technical study that might help me with my career, but just can't seem to set my mind to it. I took just one call today, advising that the role I had applied for would not be suitable. Others have just not called back.
I worry that I became institutionalised in my last role, and didn't adapt enough to the next generation. I have stalled. My career has stalled. And now my life is stalled.
The neighbours are driving me mad. Either from the halfway house across the road, or the ones living above me, or the ones living across the corridor from me. They are all equally irritating. And sometimes I just stand at my balcony and try to breathe in the evening air, wondering how it might be quite soon.
It might be but perhaps not quite soon. This thing is going to take a while, I am sure. I will be stranded here for months and unable to go outside. This is what confinement means. How little did we consider what these months would bring when we toasted in the the new year. The curve is flattening, the sombrero is squashed, but not dented. The status quo persists, and for how long?
I look at Instagram or Twitter and can see that most other people are in a similar situation. And thankfully we do have social media in order to take a view out on to the world. They didn't have that in 1918. When my great grandfather was recovering in hospital he must have had no idea on the condition of his daughter, my grandma. And we also understand the disease a lot better than back then. Is that a consolation though, to know our terrible destiny before it comes to us?
Let's see what tomorrow brings. I have food in my fridge, television, internet, and R on the end of the line or on Whatsapp. We will get through this.
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