I heard some advice that we should keep track of our days during these plague days. Or months. Or years. For posterity, I suppose. On one hand, I can see the value in that, but on the other, life is a blank page when our days are spent behind closed doors, away from one another and any sort of interesting experience.
But that’s not true, is it? This is an experience. One like no other in generations, or perhaps ever, in the history of our species. There have been other quarantines, other pandemics, but never when the world was so connected. Never when everyone was so informed (although the nature and quality of that information varies wildly, unfortunately).
It’s ironic, come to think of it, that in a time of isolation and “social distancing,” we as humans may have never been so connected by this singular, shared experience. Asia, North America, Europe, Africa, Australia. People everywhere, on every continent (except Antarctica, but they’ve got their own version of isolation and social distancing going on, so they can come to the party, too), from all walks of life, all cultures, are experiencing this one crazy fucking thing. If I had more faith in humanity I might think something good might come out at the end of all this because of that, whenever it’s finally over. Shared experience brings people together, after all. Could it work on a global scale? I guess we’ll find out.
But before then, in the thick of things, as it were, my experience is limited to writing, playing video games, and puttering to the grocery or convenience store while wearing a thick, navy, reusable mask, which even in Japan where masks are ubiquitous, gets some funny looks. But whatever. I’m a head taller than everyone around me, obviously not from around here, and get looks in my suburban neighborhood, anyway. If I get 15% more looks because I’ve got a thing on my face, so be it.