Britain in Lockdown – Day 32

I’m a bit late with today’s post. That’s what happens after a month of lockdown – you become accustomed to it and every day seems like the day before and every day to come.

This morning was the weekly supermarket visit. The spaced out queue (distance, not expanded consciousness) moved in jolts and starts. It’s the phone users or those who chat to the person behind them that let long gaps develop. Once inside the social distancing malarkey goes awry as there’s no requirement to follow a route so we’re all, politely or otherwise, making way for each other but inevitably passing close by both shoppers and supermarket staff.

An email arrived today from the local constabulary inviting the recipients to complete a survey. The final question was, “What single word sums up your feelings about the current situation?” or something like that. My answer was ‘frustration‘. As I mentioned yesterday, it’s apparent that we’ve got it wrong. It’s not the government’s fault (I think), it’s more of a gamble that they’ve lost.

When the media isn’t revelling in the drama and worst case scenarios it’s bludgeoning us with endless examples of dancing nurses. Obviously if I had been ill or someone close to me was working on the front every day it would cure me of this cynicism but I can’t help but think there’s too much of it. People are forbidden to visit loved ones in hospital during their final hours or to congregate to give comfort while they mourn the recently deceased, yet they amass on Westminster Bridge each week to ‘clap for the carers’ and in so doing break all the social distancing regulations.

Early March gave us a vague scenario that we could digest. We got used to the idea of lockdown because there was light at the end of the tunnel but now it seems there’s more than one tunnel and short gaps between each one. We’re in for a long haul.