When will this be over?

I don’t know about you but I am fed up with this Pandemic.  When it first reared its ugly head, back in early March,  nobody (including government officials) knew much about the virus and how it spread, its lethality or how many people were already infected.

Wide spread fear, hoarding of essential items: toilet paper, hand sanitizer, canned goods flew off store shells.  Boxes of n95 face masks were being sold for one hundred times their original worth.  News outlets shamelessly ran article after article drilling into the reader that the world was coming to an end.  I too was caught up in the pandemonium.   Some decisions I made were logically sound, and others were not so much.

Now, I am being told that we are only in the third inning of this battle.  By staying home, the country has been able to bend the curve and reduce infections, but not eliminate them. A number of states (mostly in the south) pushed to reopen their doors quickly to stem the tied of any further economic damage.  Unfortunately, as was expected, new cases of infection are increasing at an ever quickening pace.  The president, when asked if there was a plan to shelter in place a second time, suggested that there wasn’t.

Essential workers, such as delivery drivers, nurses, and even grocery clerks have had to contend with possibly becoming infected on a daily basis.  Under paid and overworked,  they take their lives in their own hands.  All the while, officials, through their shear incompetence exacerbate the issue by pointing fingers and make excuses, instead of taking meaningful and effective action to stem the tied of new infections.

So, now we are in inning three of this strange circumstance we find ourselves in. Isolated more than ever, people are experiencing depression on a wide scale.  Mourning their old life. Sure, maybe my old life was boring and uneventful, but at least I didn’t have this existential feeling of impending doom, and fear of my mortal demise constantly stalking me where ever I go. if I happened to forget to wash my hands after my bi weekly trip to the local supermarket, I feel a sense of unease, of living a precarious life.

There is something to be said about the human condition, where humans, through shear boredom or frustration, decrease their vigilance in taking the necessary precautions to not get infected. Washing the hands, sanitizing your living space, wearing of the mask, and not touching the face.  Humans can only be so vigilant for so long.  Self control takes will power, and mankind does not have an infinite supple of willpower.

So, it seems that the infection rate will continue to increase. We will see a second wave, the only key question is, how bad will it actually get? With limited testing, and no real plan on testing and tracing, I don’t really see any alternative to sheltering in place. But the economic consequences of shutting down the country for another couple months will have a significant effect on peoples health too. One can only hope that we get through this in one piece.

I stopped watching the news related to the pandemic.  It is too much to bear.  It is too depressing and the information is inconsequential in relation to how it could ever benefit me.  News today isn’t really news.  It is form of a highly processed lunch meat.  Filled with a host of cancer causing elements.  The news today is used to sow fear in the people that consume it.  This way people keep returning.  You can get addicted to reading that smut.  Pundits who righteously lambast the other side for their misdeeds. It is all about ad revenue,  money. So, yeah, I don’t really read the news anymore. I have much better things to do with my time.

I think things will turn out well in the end. I know I worry way too much about what may come, but worrying doesn’t benefit anybody.  You just end up wasting more of your time.  So, stay safe out there.  I take solace in knowing that this whole mess will not last forever. Eventually, there will be a vaccine, and then we can get back to living our boring uneventful lives.

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