One Year And A Day

It’s been a year and a day since I went in to self isolation. That was the phrase being thrown around before the sheilding list went live, I don’t know if many people remember that. And many of us were then left off the sheidling list.

I’ve seen a total of 6 people in the last 12 months, most of them were just socially distanced door meetings. One person was a repair man who came in at some point between the two lockdowns.

I miss Libraries

I miss my friends

God I need a hug

I haven’t been able to visit my mum’s resting place.

And in fact, the reason it’s been a year and a day is because yesterday was the anniversary of scattering my Mum’s ashes. I’ve been a mess most of this week, and only, oddly enough, started to feel better about things, generally, yesterday. I think it was the 12th, last year, when things started to look bad when the government was telling people to only leave home for work and emergencies. So it was from then that I made the decision that, after scattering my Mum’s ashes, I wouldn’t be leaving the house until it was all over.

And since then I’ve left the flat 3 times.

Mum’s birthday, to visit her resting place

December, to get the flu jab.

And two weeks ago to get the covid jab.

People are talking about winding down lockdown, there are anti lockdown protests going on today – as well as the anti-protest laws marches – and people raring to go back to normal. There are still thousands of new infections a day, even though the death rate is slowly coming down, and the NHS is still overwhelmed.

Between the lack of 0 covid strategy and the general public really not caring about the health and well being of other people, I don’t feel like we’ll ever get back to normal. There’s certainly a lot of people I no longer have respect for, consdering they think their right to go to the pub trumps my right not to be killed by a deadly highly infectuous disease.

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