Coronavirus Journal, Vol. One
I, Dalton Lewis, present notes and anecdotes from the first week of self-isolation.
- Alone with one’s parents for a week isn’t so bad. The food is delicious. My mother made dinner last night: chicken, red sauce, cheese, and noodles. We also had sauteed vegetables and a salad. We sat, as a family, and ate a real dinner.
- I apologize for not blogging for a while. I spaced out and two weeks passed. I didn’t have a good time mentally — I screamed at the voices inside my head that I was innocent, and it took two weeks to realize that I don’t care what they think. I know I’m innocent.
- Sitting at home makes time seem to go on forever, or it seems like only a day has passed. I don’t have any relative feel for how long it has been since we started this self-isolation.
- I don’t remember, in my forty-two years, a political or news story that has impacted my life like this one. I was fired repeatedly after 9/11 — that’s how that affected me. I don’t remember any other news stories affecting my life. This one certainly has.
- I don’t think that I have the novel coronavirus. I don’t have a cough. I don’t have a fever. I haven’t talked to anyone new — outside of my parents — in a week and a half or so. Isolation has prevented me from becoming sick.
- Dad says that we make less money now, so I shouldn’t buy whole new armies of wargaming miniatures. I have cartons of wargaming miniatures in all state of disrepair. I should put those together and organize them before starting a new army. Will I? I don’t know. Sometimes we don’t do the rational or logical thing and instead do the fun thing: buy new wargaming miniatures. And don’t call them toys.
- I shouldn’t be badly affected by this: I’m unemployed, forty-two, and live with my parents. I don’t care. I like going to movies. I like seeing my friends. I like going to dinner at a nice restaurant. I don’t get to do those things.
- I choose to self-isolate. I was self-isolating for several days before the government of Illinois mandated this self-isolation. I do it because it’s the right thing to do to minimize the number of people who die from this super psycho killer virus. I don’t want my parents to get it. I don’t want to get it. I can’t talk to my friend Philip because he might have it. I have to stay away from loved ones.
- They haven’t tested him. They won’t test him. They don’t test a lot of people who might have it. I don’t know why that is. Certain places test more, and certain places test less. It’s a cultural thing, maybe. I don’t know how many people have it; I just know the official numbers. Those aren’t the truth; those are what the government wants us to think.
- My parents and I could die from this. Think about that before going to your next party. Consider it before seeing us without washing your hands. Consider it when complaining about the economic penalty for saving lives. Lives are more important, people.
Thanks, and take care, friends.