CoVID-19 – day 56

Tomorrow I’m going into my 9th week of writing this diary. I’m tempted to delve into an analysis of my writing but I feel I should resist this as it will turn into a reflection of diary writing rather than a more candid observation of what is happening inside and outside of my head.

I’m conscious that this is not the diary of someone who is dealing with the virus directly. If I’ve had it I’ve been asymptomatic and I’m not working with anyone who has it. But as I’ve written before, much of our experience comes from coping with the measures in place rather than the virus itself. While coronavirus is very real we can kid ourselves that we know this reality experiencially.

failure wants to know where the bodies are buried

Going to and from the shop two days ago in my makeshift mask it struck me how surreal it all is. It was sunny and warm, people were milling about seeming fairly happy and I had no way of knowing whether wearing a mask actually made any difference. Everything felt fine. This is why we need clear instructions. In the absence of physical evidence there needs to be at least a sense of community coordination. When we walk in step the renegade sticks out like a sore thumb.

Yesterday was a day of neatness. Some of my plans didn’t make it to the starting block but there was a kind of rhythm to it and what was started was finished with some neglected cleaning duties feeling rather satisfying and one job that’s been ongoing for months feeling like it’s being closed out. I spent an hour performing on Stafford Live at 6pm with a couple of hours before preparing. Though struggling with the words in just about every song I think that preparation paid off . It wasn’t a shit show but it was strange closing the set then being on my own with my own thoughts though I had done what I’d set out to do and I believe the audience was happy with it too.

It’s good when a plan comes together. Sometimes an operation works seamlessly yet fails to fulfil it’s objective while other times things simply fall into place by themselves as if guided by fate. Both give a level of satisfaction and each have their own strengths and weaknesses. When lack of preparation leads to chaos it’s a whole different ball game. Sometimes it’s just bad luck because had there been success the lack of prep could be disregarded but failure wants to know where the bodies are buried.

Anyone who has read me knows what’s coming next. A friend of mine insists on giving our government a pass on having to deal with something so difficult though even he admits they’ve done themselves no favours. For me that’s a bar so low you might as well leave it on the ground. With only England following government guidelines out of the whole UK, even English authorities are refusing to adopt them. However clear or unclear the instructions have been, the mechanisms for maintaining public safety that need to accompany the new policy are not in place. The complexity and ambiguity in the instructions has led to people rewriting the rules to suit themselves. In other cases workers are being forced to follow rules they know are unsafe.

Not only has there been a transparently thin strategy that has changed with the wind, even those in charge of implementing it don’t seem to know what they’re doing and when questioned on the facts consistently eitherget them wrong or are ignorant of them. We don’t have to wait and see if the plan (if you can call it that) has worked. The death toll so far tells us it has not. Most worrying is the prospect that we haven’t yet seen the worst.

My online gig went well both in the planning and execution and that makes me happy. But what makes this time stressful is that whatever we do there is no closure. We don’t get to congratulate each other in person, we don’t get to savour the moment in a hug or a handshake. And we are aware that whatever our personal achievements, there is a shit show going on around us where the planning has been pitiful and the execution has been disastrous.