Day 11: Noctober 47
There is something still in the world while, at the same time, this invisible enemy advances faster and faster, unstoppable. We can only try to delay it and so we stay inside, far from others, sharing more and more with those with whom we are trapped: my kid and I; the cats and I; the dog and I.
It was a good day today. For two hours and 45 minutes, I was in meetings. Unlike my online class yesterday, the meetings worked well. If you pay for your software, it is bound to work. I enjoyed those meetings, brainstorming how to contribute to our community by finding out the best ways in which can move part of our work online. It's a worthy enterprise and I'm glad I can be involved. But I realized that, what I enjoyed the most was the very beginning, when some participants have shown up but the group is waiting for others. During those minutes, we chitchat, about anything, about the virus, about being locked at home. We joke. Stories are exchanged, small news. Locations are established (oh, so you are there, not here!). I miss the company of grownups. I miss conversation with no set purpose.
A friend of mine mentioned that his wife said that last Wednesday felt like three months ago. I could see people nodding their agreement. It's true: I cannot tell how long ago was last Wednesday if I don't count the days (this blog is helping me keep track, I guess). Later, when establishing the timeline of events leading to this new grant, my friend joked again: "The tweet appeared ten days ago... three years ago... on Monday... some time after the fall of the Roman Empire..."
At that point, someone else (I'm not sure who) interjected: "Noctober 47!"
Right, I thought, that's exactly when it happened, Noctober 47. It is the perfect date to describe what's going on and it reminded me of the days after my kid was born and I could no longer remember a time without her. Then, too, the nights and days had merged into each other becoming a continuum of sameness with a twist. Just like right now we face day after day in which a whole load of nothing happens and even the smallest deviation might mark the difference, if we could remember when it happened.
Canada cases 4,046
World cases 531,860
World deaths 24,057
World recoveries 122,203