THE NEW NORMAL / SPRING 2020

I'm writing this on Friday 8th May 2020, the eve of my 23rd birthday, which I am preparing to spend in social isolation at home. I felt compelled to record this strange time in published words - though I'm not sure I will ever feel inclined to read it and relive this experience. 

We are currently in the midst of a global pandemic of Covid19, a strain of the Coronavirus. It is sort of our version of the 1917 Influenza pandemic, or the milder Swine Flu, which we experienced in the late 2000s. The virus originated in Wuhan, China, at the end of 2019, and by March 2020 it had affected daily life in every country in the world.

The coronavirus has changed everything. Currently, in the UK, we have been in 'lockdown' (our word for the government-mandated order to stay indoors, except for essential travel for groceries and key work) for seven weeks. We aren't permitted to leave the house for anything unnecessary, and even our walks are limited to one per day. Every non-essential store has shut up shop and town centres are deserted - not that I've seen it, of course, being at home for seven weeks. Even entertainment has changed: Netflix and similar services have reduced streaming quality in a bid to combat the dramatic increase in viewing; live competition shows have stopped filming completely, such as The Voice; Justin Bieber and Ariana Grande have released a song about social distancing; and most bizarrely, in my opinion, chat shows have started hosting guests via video conferencing while the host remains in the studio (The Late Late Show, for example). 

Culturally, physically and politically, this feels like a completely different world compared to a few months ago when the news was dominated with Brexit drama and Meghan and Harry's split from Royal duties. There is a Coronavirus update every single night on the UK news, and every Thursday at 8pm we stand on our driveways and clap for the NHS, isolated but together. The first Thursday that we clapped, it was cold and the stars were out, but now the sky is sepia-tinted and the air is warm.

Everybody is experiencing a different situation right now, and it's hard to choose between being glad it's not worse or panicking about what it is. Before the pandemic, I was job-hunting from home, which is not dissimilar to being at home in lockdown. The job prospects, however, have dried up and after many rejections due to a halt in hiring, I decided it would be smarter to stop applying for now and wait it out, like so many others. My mum and older sister are teachers which classifies them as 'key workers.' Their schools have arranged rotas for staff to come in and supervise the children of other essential workers, and they set online tasks for learning. Mum, on the other hand, is staying at home permanently, because her thyroid conditions and asthma put her at risk of becoming seriously ill if she is exposed to the virus. Every time one of us leaves the house, we put her at risk. She could count the number of times she's been out on one hand.

At the start, there was a self-imposed obligation to be endlessly productive and effortlessly organised with one's free time and activities. While this has mellowed a little now that this feels quite long term (hello, week eight), I feel certain that most are experiencing a nagging desire to propel oneself towards self-improvement. After all, you have just been given this period of obligation-free, free time. The pressure to decide how you are going to come out of the Covid pandemic makes any attempt at self-improvement feel forced and desperate. How dare I bubble with anxiety at the thought of thousands of people seriously ill from an incredibly infectious disease that has no cure? While we adjust to the new normal, wondering what the future might look like has become a daily topic of conversation. Disneyland, who closed all of their parks two months ago, is set to reopen parks at the end of 2020 with new 'social distancing' measures. Let's just take a moment to consider how staying two metres apart at Disneyland could possibly work. 

I should have been in Italy right now, sipping a San Pelligrino from a balcony in Lake Como to celebrate my birthday weekend. Both my holidays to Como and Copenhagen were cancelled, and the summer tourist season is utterly unfeasible, at least in my opinion. This crisis has confirmed people's ability to block out a threat once it becomes familiar. When deaths started increasing in the UK, the lockdown rules were followed, masks and gloves were worn to the supermarkets and the roads were empty. Seven weeks later, while the threat of the virus remains very real, the initial fear and uncertainty has dissipated which has a tendency to give the illusion of invincibility to some individuals. If the virus hasn't got them yet, they will be fine, right? While that reasoning, though flawed, might be accurate, it is possible to contract coronavirus asymptomatically, making you a carrier without experiencing the symptoms of the illness yourself. The seven-week lockdown is starting to make sense.  

Social distancing outside the home does not mean we aren't subjected to closed quarters with roommates or family members. You can love your family, but being stuck inside with them for so long is enough to drive anyone mad and craving alone time. On the other hand, unless you live together, relationships have completely changed. Alone but together on Facetime has become the new normal. When I lived in France, Ollie and I went longer than seven weeks without seeing each other, but my return date always gave us something to reach for. The unique nightmare of the coronavirus is that months from now it could, and likely will still be haunting us and affecting our options, choices and opportunities. It will be months before normalcy in the most basic tasks is regained - the two-metre social distancing rule is set to last until the end of the year in supermarkets. 

Currently, social distancing has been attempted to prevent health services from complete overwhelm past the brink of functionality. Though until a successful medical treatment (beyond ventilators and prayers) has been discovered, 'normal' life cannot resume, at least without excessive paranoia and anxiety. For now, we shall continue to tread cautious footsteps into the unknown and wonder when we might begin to unclench our shoulders again.