This week, the 52nd week of pandemic restrictions, the isolation hit me hard. I took a trip to the supermarket, looking for supplies I can't buy at the shop at the end of my street. Shuffling around the long aisles I encountered many strange, moving forms. Forms that I believed only existed in two dimensions on my screen. But no - here they were, moving in the real world. How had this happened? These "people" were out there, making sounds like speech and I was confused. But not as confused as when I realised I couldn't find the talcum powder. I searched the shelves, yet nothing.
Seeing my difficulties, one of the "people" wearing the logo of the place (so "staff"? Kinda like an online chat bot, but walking and exhibiting intelligence and not completely useless) came over and asked if they could help. They stood at a pandemic-respectful distance and looked at me like they wanted something. A response, that was it. My brain lurched and jumped. How to communicate? What to do? Finally, my brain kicked to life after what seemed like an eternity of standing there.
I raised my hand; pointed at the shelf and just barked "talc". Then "talc?" Look of confusion from me.
Not my finest moment.
Anyway, he was cool. I eventually found the power of Words to Peoples and apologised for being inarticulate and then together we failed to find the talc. It was amusing, but on reflection also weird and troubling. I have spoken to maybe five people in person in about a year and actually holding a conversation in person is surprisingly difficult. We were both masked and distanced, so I wasn't concerned about COVID (beyond the ongoing background concern of course) and I've certainly talked a LOT to people over Zoom and equivalents, but in person is different.
It made me think about what returning to normal is actually going to be about. Not the common stuff about whether we work in offices again, or when the pubs will open, but the smaller everyday changes. I remember walking around shops in thick crowds. I remember people standing like lemons in the middle of the street because they didn't see the need to consider where the people were around them. I remember people - oh that's it, I'm remembering people. Over the last year, there have been far fewer folk out and about, and those that have have by and large been aware of their fellow humans and taken them into account. I really hope this is something we can keep moving forwards.
I'm curious what else is going to come up as I look around? I imagine the first time I get on a train again will be a weird experience.
This post is from a series of shorter posts, written roughly once a week while the country is on lockdown to capture my feelings and reactions as we go. They are all tagged with coronavirus.