That week took a hundred years

It wasn’t a bad week — plenty of smiles happened, though maybe fewer laughs than usual — but it felt like a lot longer than a week.

A couple of my parent friends agreed it felt like how time worked when we had a newborn. We’re aware of more moments in the day, so the day feels longer. Also we’re no longer living our own lives: I feel a loss of self, as if I’m “being subsumed by a greater need”, as one friend said.

What happens if we extrapolate from this? Will the next few weeks become one smeary memory of the same banal life motions (cook, eat, sleep, laundry, shelter in place) that are but a haze when we look back, even a few years from now? Will it feel incrementally better when we see how slowly the pandemic spreads because of the actions we’re all taking? Will we reach a point of having enough people recovered who can work to keep our infrastructure functional — obviously an analogy to not needing to carry a diaper bag.