Chronicles of the Plague Year #7

I have never been particularly gregarious, preferring small groups to large, and solitary or couple time over any other.  I notice this has grown more pronounced as I’ve aged, possibly as a result of mobility issues adding weight to the preference.  The point is, that this stay-at-home phase of the pandemic doesn’t really bother me.

Or so I thought.  I woke up this morning with an urgent craving to go have breakfast someplace, almost any place, on the Drive; to sit with others and enjoy the street cabaret.  Even if I were to go out, I would find nothing open. So it was one of those pointless longings, but I could not shake it.  And it made me think that if this lock-down was having such an effect on someone quite used to staying home, then it must be awful for those who were previously out there living lives in motion, out and about every day.

But the demographics are not clearly defined. I have people in England even older than me, 80-year old plus friends and relatives of my Mother, who are champing at the bit to get outdoors, hating every moment they are locked up.  But my daughter and my granddaughter, who have always worked hard and enjoyed their jobs, are just blissing out on the relaxation of being home all day. They have even dropped off social media.

It sure is an odd time.  I’ve got bacon cooking on the stove, so I feel better now.


Previous Chronicles.

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