the morning after

The town is noticeably quieter this morning as I head off to the long stay car park.  The self-appointed Apocalypse General (Chris) has decreed that I can leave the house to park the car, but no social intercourse of any sort; just leave the car and come straight home.  So - no nipping into the shops on the way back to pick up a danish pastry for my mid-morning Fika.

The suddenness of this clampdown and its implications - both personal and national - are only just beginning to sink in.  For me, the inability to make music with my friends - and exercising (and socialising) with my friends at my cardio-pulmonary gym, is a big deal.  Others, I know, will have more serious aspects of their lives suddenly curtailed.

I am trying hard not to be angry about it - not so much at the disease itself but its consequences.  Namely - the behaviour of some of my fellow human beings.  

I watched the news last night in despair at the sight of people queueing up to buy guns. And others stockpiling basic needs in order to make money out of chronic shortages.  

And then big business - companies that only months ago were paying their chief executives obscene bonuses for ‘productivity’ are now warning that they’ll need a government bailout to survive.  

BUT - and it’s a big ‘but’…. all this is put into perspective by the kindness and selflessness of strangers.  We’ve had offers of help from people we don’t know as well as from those we do know. 

The young woman I mentioned yesterday is suspected of having the virus and will remain at home unless the symptoms become worse.  Meanwhile neighbours are shopping for her and her husband.

The bear with the sore head made me smile.  I hope it’s catching.