ISOLATION DIARIES PART 37: GHOSTS

This is week 11 of isolation. It’s wearing a little thin. My colleagues appear like ghosts on the screen now, some of them weary from the rigours of the redundancy process, which, while awful, at least has the good sense to conclude itself this week. Others look nervously around the chat, wondering which of us will still be here next time, post-axe. Still others have been walking on eggshells, not daring to ask the question.

Last week I Iet morbid curiosity log me in to the virtual beer fridge. It’s normally every Friday, 4:30pm, and when in ufficio, it features a real fridge with real beer in it. It’s long been a staple of the week; cracking open some cans around the pool table and the ever noisy foosball. And in lockdown we’ve carried on the tradition, often throwing in one of Mr Pub Quiz’s kahoot specials, with our own beers (obviously) on screen. I went a few weeks ago and sat in the background while they chatted and laughed about everything. 

So last Friday, in the wake of the ‘Reduction in Force’ announcement, I thought I’d log in again to see who was brave enough to turn up.

Two other people. Not the regulars like Steve, or Tim, or Mr PQ. Not the big cheese (awks) or indeed any of the medium sized cheeses. In fact, not even any of the fun size variety pack cheeses either; just me and two others, desperately making egg shell conversations work from our separate houses. I stayed, out of politeness and sympathy, and so, I imagined, did they, despite none of us really having talked to each other directly before.

So week 11 then. There will probably be a week 18, so still some way to go, I reckon - despite the government’s attempts at undermining its own message. I was worried about surviving just a few days at the beginning, without going zany; now it’s the norm - quiet solitude: hours of it, with the occasional ghosts of people I once knew and worked alongside, popping up with a cheery electronic ping every now and then. I hope I’ll see all of them again but I know I won’t, due to the way companies quietly and ruthlessly process redundancies. And it feels dreadful that I can’t ask.