Thursday - 2 April, 2020
Before writing this post I had to spend a bit of time making sense of the timeline in these diary entries. I only wrote on Tuesday what I wanted to write on Monday, and, instead of 31st in the post heading I wrote the 30th, and, because I published it after midnight, the post date reads April 1st. It was like trying to untangle a set of earphones after stuffing them inside a drawer for a few months. But I think I managed; we are on the second of April in the year 2020, and although we are on the 18th day of the Coronavirus Diaries, I'm including day 17 in the title - for a bit of aesthetic value in the series' continuance.
You know one thing that's really flipped on its head since this whole thing started? Weekends. It's still nice to sleep in a bit, that hasn't changed, but since you're not going to do much the weekends can be pretty dull while the weekdays, with work in sixth gear now that productivity has shot up, are the more eventful and interesting days. Isn't that nice? Always a silver lining. Reminds me of the startup days when waking up on Mondays meant suiting up for the hunt again.
A pretty crazy/interesting situation was that finally (though unfortunately) I heard from somebody I know personally who was infected with Covid-19. An old friend who lives in New York found out he had it after testing positive while he was already on the road to recovery. He reported shallow breathing, severe fatigue, and the loss of smell and taste, after which he began to recover, though he's not fully there yet and still has issues with his breathing.
Meanwhile in Romania, we're still locked down with the army out on the streets. I'd like to go out for a drive just to see what it's like but it feels very pointless, and I think I'd come back home depressed. It's a weird type of exercise in denial to stay in - I head about the empty streets, shuttered shops and restaurants, but since I don't see it, I don't have a point of reference and therefore I can pretend it's really all in my imagination and on the idiot box -which we all know is a bunch of hogwash.
By the way, another interesting thing about all this: I couldn't tell you when, if ever, I didn't go grocery shopping for 10 days. This means that sooner rather than later I'm going to get into my Will Smith from I Am Legend costume and venture out. Minus the dog and the rifle.
Before writing this post I had to spend a bit of time making sense of the timeline in these diary entries. I only wrote on Tuesday what I wanted to write on Monday, and, instead of 31st in the post heading I wrote the 30th, and, because I published it after midnight, the post date reads April 1st. It was like trying to untangle a set of earphones after stuffing them inside a drawer for a few months. But I think I managed; we are on the second of April in the year 2020, and although we are on the 18th day of the Coronavirus Diaries, I'm including day 17 in the title - for a bit of aesthetic value in the series' continuance.
You know one thing that's really flipped on its head since this whole thing started? Weekends. It's still nice to sleep in a bit, that hasn't changed, but since you're not going to do much the weekends can be pretty dull while the weekdays, with work in sixth gear now that productivity has shot up, are the more eventful and interesting days. Isn't that nice? Always a silver lining. Reminds me of the startup days when waking up on Mondays meant suiting up for the hunt again.
A pretty crazy/interesting situation was that finally (though unfortunately) I heard from somebody I know personally who was infected with Covid-19. An old friend who lives in New York found out he had it after testing positive while he was already on the road to recovery. He reported shallow breathing, severe fatigue, and the loss of smell and taste, after which he began to recover, though he's not fully there yet and still has issues with his breathing.
Meanwhile in Romania, we're still locked down with the army out on the streets. I'd like to go out for a drive just to see what it's like but it feels very pointless, and I think I'd come back home depressed. It's a weird type of exercise in denial to stay in - I head about the empty streets, shuttered shops and restaurants, but since I don't see it, I don't have a point of reference and therefore I can pretend it's really all in my imagination and on the idiot box -which we all know is a bunch of hogwash.
By the way, another interesting thing about all this: I couldn't tell you when, if ever, I didn't go grocery shopping for 10 days. This means that sooner rather than later I'm going to get into my Will Smith from I Am Legend costume and venture out. Minus the dog and the rifle.
Comments
Post a Comment