Isolation, week 2 underway. This isn’t “social isolation,” where you don’t go to movies or restaurants. I’m in isolation as in, “you live in this one room and don’t go out for any reason.” I can hear my husband making popcorn in the kitchen, on the other side of a wall, but other than video chats, we haven’t seen each other in two weeks.
This is the disaster designed for introverts to shine, but nobody craves this much solitude. Still, I’m better off than an extrovert would be. And can you imagine going through this in the pre-internet age?
This is Mother Nature’s big IQ test, and you really don’t want to be the person who flunks. So now we find out who’s really stupid and who isn’t. I’m not talking about people who are doing necessary things like keeping the supply chain of food and essentials going, or medical people. God bless you all.
I’m talking about those nincompoops (oops — shouldn’t say “poop” during TP-pocalypse) who could stay home and help us all flatten the curve, but won’t. Every time I hear one say “I have to live my life!,” I think, “For a few weeks, dummy.” Why would you want to help Frankenvirus grow? You’re on the wrong side of history, sweetie, bless your little heart.
The rest of us are busy being superheroes. The easiest superhero gig EVER. No costume to don, no cape to get in your way, just sit on the sofa and watch movies, or do calisthenics alone in your apartment. Wait for the Marvel movie starring Social Distance Defenders! Okay, it’s a boring-ass movie. Which is the point. We’re working towards the day when nothing much is going on. We’re all joining hands to save humanity by NOT joining hands. From at least six feet apart, and preferably more, we’re protecting ourselves, our loved ones, and our world.