A diary of a homeworker during the lockdown
Confession on what goes on behind the closed door
MORNING
7:15 AM. I jump out of my bed to switch off the alarm. The phone display tells me it’s the 3rd of April. I’m approaching the end of my fourth week of self-isolation, you know, since the Earth has started shutting down.
7:30 AM. As I don’t have to rush for a train, I fight the urge to nap a little longer. In my experience, a little longer might turn into an additional hour. I’d better get up and make myself some fresh coffee.
8:00 AM. Stopover in the bathroom to wash my face. I spend thirty seconds looking at myself in the mirror. So far, I haven’t started talking to the mirror nor walls, so this quarantine period is not so bad.
8:15 AM. Great! I still have some time left before jumping on the morning calls and stand-ups. I’d better use it to enjoy the coffee in a living room full of the morning sun. I check out the daily news. I bet not much has changed. Efforts to flatten the curve, part of the population complaining about being on lockdown, another part of the community ignoring the rules and acting like heroes who cannot get sick, inevitable economic decline, increasing unemployment rates. Even more mass surveillance on the horizon? Sounds peachy, not.
