Dysturbia

I overslept thanks to dystopian dreaming and then was confined to the Airbnb place most of the day, working in isolation. At least our jobs can be done this way with varying degrees of effectiveness. It’s still fortunate employment to have compared to many millions thrown into uncertainty.

As if Brits aren’t already awkward enough as a group of people, without the mutual suspicion that a passerby is harbouring a deadly cough. I walked to the shop and it felt like people are being very wary of proximity to others, with lots of glancing and hunching down. I know this is following the guidance, but it ain’t very good for the fabric of society. One woman broke through our new social norms to ask me where the nearest post office was. As my only face to face interaction with anyone all day, it was marvellous, although I couldn’t help her in the slightest. Cambridge knowledge has tumbled from my brain.

One shopper at Coop asked an assistant whether there was any cous-cous, which she was told had run out. ‘What about polenta then, have you got any of that?’ The assistant didn’t know what it was.

I had an afternoon call with my colleague Rob as we’re keeping up the pretence of being able to support our project site in Chimanimani, Mozambique. He relayed to me about his trip to Tesco where the only soup remaining was lobster bisque. Even in a panic-buying situation, certain things remain over-ambitious.