I think this rather looks how isolation feels. Trudging up the stairs to an unknown. I've read so much on the 1918 Influenza, and I'm seeing similar patterns from a century ago emerge, only at breakneck speed. And that makes every official delay in reacting that much more heartbreaking. There was time to dither when it took a virus 8 days to jump the Atlantic on a sea crossing. It takes 8 hours now. Everything has to keep up with transmission, and sadly, the US is not. The people who dither and delay are unlikely to pay the price. That's for us ordinary people. We're the firewood for every conflagration of history, indistinguishable once the fire starts to burn.
I'm full of melancholy and helpless rage, getting little done and trying not to be angry with myself for the inability to focus intensely. My advisor said I should be easily able to work as normal, since I'm virtually a shut-in already. Nothing could be more wrong. Friends and loved ones have the virus, supplies are hard to get, and if my husband or I get it, we'll die, either from the virus or being de-prioritised in triage since we're chronically ill. How is any of that life as normal, even for a virtual shut-in? .
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