It seems a little strange how the last few weeks have progressed. On some level, it makes me want to go back and read Laurie Halse Anderson’s Fever 1793 all over again. On the opposite hand, I really don’t. Somehow it has become far too relevant.
Three weeks ago, we had a large church gathering, during which we had ensured that no one shook hands (it’s flu season anyway), and the deacons deployed hand sanitizer at the doors because it was probably a good call.
Two weeks ago, things were sort of ramping up from there. We took a trip to Vermont, got some snowshoeing in, but were fairly unconcerned.
Last weekend we were back in Vermont and the mood had completely changed. We were now calling places and checking their Facebook pages to see if they were still open. By the time we got back to Massachusetts, restaurants were not allowed to do sit down service (take-away and delivery only). One truck in a nearby town was parked outside a diner with a handwritten sign that nearly pleaded “WE HAVE TAKE-OUT AND DELIVERY!”
It’s hard to know how long this will go on. I worry about my local bookstores staying afloat. I worry about all the seasonal staff I can’t hire back yet. I worry about the restaurants. I worry about all the staff that are barely making ends meet because they have gotten reduced hours or have been laid-off entirely. I worry about the businesses making it through this so that there are jobs to come back to on the other side. I am grateful that I still have a job, but this whole situation is so insane that you can’t help but worry.
Stay safe. Stay sane. Don’t go out unless you have to. We all have to work together to halt the virus. Don’t work through it. Be smart.