Plague Diaries #9
Monday. A new working day and a new working week. Lockdown makes the repetition of work even more dull, and reinforces the sense of pointlessness. Today was a particularly irritating one because I’ve been moved to work on a project that I didn’t want to go near, which leaves my team and our current project with no developers at all, so no work getting done, for maybe a month. Still, it’s better this happened now, while I’m working from home, that way no one can hear me swearing about it all day.
It looks as though a colleague of mine may, possibly, have coronavirus. They’ve been sick for a couple of weeks and off work, and today we heard that they have a few symptoms. Nothing confirmed, but it is slightly alarming since this is someone I work with and sit next to. But having said that, it’s been a few weeks now since I saw them, and I’ve not had any of the stand out symptoms, nor has Francesca, so we’re probably fine.
Sometimes I get sick of writing this. It feels so self-involved and fucking stupid. I’m not even that sure I can about much of what I write. But I said I would do this for the whole lockdown. It’s becoming a thing. Part of my routine. And that’s what gets people through things like this. Repetition.
Normalize the unreal.
Seriously, this is like some fucking bad movie we’ve all seen and laughed at, probably directly by Roland Emmerich. Can I be John Cusak the limo driver and flaky father? I’m too old and too ugly to be Jake Gyllenhaal the kid with the flaky father. But here we are, holed up inside the public library in New York, burning our books to keep warm, or racing to get on board an Arc, where we’ll be safe, protected by good politicians and military leaders.
I want a few car chases through the white, middle class suburbs of York. I want a fucking zombie outbreak in a school yard. I want to see the skin peel from people’s faces and this virus rips them apart from inside. I want them bleeding and wailing in the streets, because maybe then it will be real. Maybe then it won’t seem like a fucking bad movie.
Maybe then it won’t be so goddamn soul destroyingly fucking boring.
It’s like Hollywood has been prepping us for this for decades, so that when the event finally comes, we kinda just shrug at it and think “Oh, pfft, really? That’s not very original, is it? It doesn’t even look real.”
It’s all a special effect.
It’s all just make up and lighting and CGI.
It’s all repetition and routine.
And the acting is fucking awful.
I’m washing my hands.