Here we go ...

We're starting our government-imposed 4 week period of self isolation here in New Zealand. It began at 11.59pm last night and will continue for 4 weeks. We have to stay at home to help prevent the community spread of this ghastly Covid-19 virus that is wreaking such havoc all over the world.

We can go out for a walk, go to the supermarket and the doctor. That's it. All of the bars and the shops are closed, and other services like hair salons (my hair will be down to my ankles by the time I see the scissors again) are shut too. We are not to travel anywhere and the police have additional powers brought into place while the country is in state of national emergency.

Even the army can march in if need be.

That's enough incentive for me to stay at home and behave myself.

Things look the same this morning.  The photo above is taken from the deck of my Writing Place. The sun came up, my cat Betsy squalled and howled for her breakfast at the usual time of 6am (on the dot - how do they know?), I got up and did all the usual things (shower, get dressed. toast and coffee). So while things look the same, they don't feel the same. Not at all.

Our neighbourhood has a kind of post-apocalyptic calm. Usually at this time of day kids are chattering on the way to school, car doors are slamming and engines starting as neighbours head off to work, dogs are being walked, yapping and prancing about, pairs of people are striding along for their AM exercise, talking about the day ahead. 

Nuthin' like that happening here this morning.

Last night I had a dream. I was at home but my house was bigger. I had two guests staying the night - a man and a woman - unbeknownst to me they had also invited Sonia, a thin, bespectacled, nervous creature (could that have been me?) who had then invited crowds of people for a party. Within minutes my house was packed with rowdy party-goers. Fortunately my house and lawns expanded in my dream to accommodate all of these party folk and I walked from room to room, thinking, 'I cannot get rid of them. There are too many. What should I do?'

Those of us who analyse dreams (and I'm not one of them but for me, this one is pretty clear) will say that this dream of mine shows a loss of control. Things are happening and there is nothing I can do about it. And the crowd of people is an absolute no-no as we deal with this virus. 

I imagine the anxiety this situation is causing will invade my dreams again, as it is affecting my waking life too.

​We just have to go with it for now.

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