Today has felt more normal for some reason. Maybe it was just the indefatigable ‘Friday Feeling’ hard-wired into my core, overriding the weirdness.
The sky above the houses was blue this morning. Little white ice clouds, high and thin, like horsetails, and then banks of lower, flat, fluffy clouds catching the sun. Spring is hinting at us.
Social distancing will be the new normal for a while. The inevitable work email came: it’s longer than just two weeks, folks. There’s talk of 10-12 weeks. There’s talk of social distancing lasting ‘most of this year’ - a prospect that sits like slurry in my stomach.
In his daily briefing from Number 10 Downing Street, the Prime Minister closed “all nightclubs, restaurants, gyms, leisure centres and pubs” with immediate effect. It was a bleak reminder that this virus has stolen the one thing from us that would make it more bearable - each other. The two union flags stood side by side, three feet apart behind him, in his wood-panelled briefing room - a reminder of the minimum distance that there now must be between every human in this United Kingdom.
Emmie called me from Canada today while I was walking in the park. I’d just been reflecting on the dog-walkers I’d seen who’d shot me looks of fear and compassion: “we all know what’s going on but don’t come near me,” they all said, without saying it. Anyway, Emmie gave me the lowdown on Toronto. Much the same. People there are building toilet roll forts at home too. Fear and compassion, the same weird mix everywhere, has a funny effect on people.
So we rounded out the week. Who knows what’s next: complete lockdown? Rationing? Curfews?
I’m not alone I’m sure, but the one thing I’d like is a big hug from someone who really loves me. Like my Dad, or my Mum or someone out there who knows that armchair language of home, and isn’t afraid to throw arms around me while I flood them with tears.
I’m going to have to wait aren’t I? I think we all are.
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