The pandemic has caused us to behave in a way that's so atypical for most people. Everyone wants this to be over, obviously to end the suffering and death, but to get the hell out. Most everyone longs to break from the confines of their homes and interact with friends, family, lovers, and so on.
I've read and heard so many sentiments, from people, regarding what they're going to do when this is over. Road trip, begin dating, having sex with whomever I want, pursue a life long love of curling, raise pangolins in the Belgian Congo. The list goes on.
But when is this over? When do you emerge from your bunker and resume life?
If you're waiting for someone to broadcast an ALL CLEAR, you'll be waiting for some time. That will take an effective vaccine to be developed and distributed, which is at least a year out. Until then, you can count on the sociopath in chief to bungle the response, with the infections and deaths flowing from peak to peak. He'll likely screw the pooch on getting a vaccine to the populous, as well.
Countries with competent leaders thought they'd contained the virus and allowed a slow reopening, only to have to shut things back down, when the number of cases began to surge again.
And the virus has become a nasty fucker, killing people without them exhibiting symptoms and attacking beyond the respiratory system.
So, when is it over for you? At what point will you attempt to resume some sort of normal life?
Is your decision tied to an infection or death rate dropping to a certain level? Perhaps, it's a mental barrier, where you say 'fuck it, those fucking pangolins are calling!'
Personally, I'm nowhere near that point and won't be any time soon. And I truly feel for those who's lives have been upended and lost their incomes. My stylist texted me yesterday, telling me her salon was reopening and could she book an appointment for me on the 24th. Oh hell no. I told her I'd pay for an appointment, but not show.
So when is it really over for you?
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