The panic on social media is strangely palpable: breathless calls to stay calm, to finally get to that stack of books you’ve been meaning to get to, to learn that language(!), to stay active and hopeful even as we are, 24/7, drenched in the collective alarm that arrives with a pandemic. There are ample amounts of confusion, too, given the initial wobbly messaging from government as the Coronavirus began snaking its way around the globe.

We take these things personally, you see. While #weareallinthistogether, we’re not really, because no one else feels your distinctive, nuanced sense of fear; your loss is singular and abrupt; all of this change is so deeply felt, and lonely. We can still do our favourite class on Zoom, but holy shit, people say, I will never take for granted what I once thought was ordinary. Things like meeting friends for brunch, heading to the gym, not looking terrified as you approach the toilet paper aisle at the supermarket etc.