Hey guess what… it’s STILL FUCKING HERE.  Yesterday Peter tested positive for Covid (so far I’m still negative). His symptoms started on Sunday (feeling tired, chesty cough) so we did a test on Sunday evening – negative. But Monday morning there it was. Fuck. Obviously since the positive test result Peter has been keeping to his room, wearing a mask, with the balcony doors open for ventilation… and of course he cancelled his tours this week.

I also got in touch with my clients booked for this week. Told them the situation, that I had so far not tested positive (and of course would test on the morning of the tour) but they have opted to cancel. Fair enough. I wanted that to be their choice, it wasn’t mine to make for them, thinking I was fine, it was theirs to make based on the possibility that I might not be. Totally respect that.

And yeah, it sucks to lose work and income. But I don’t get it. How do people who KNOW they are Covid positive still keep going out and about, keep going to work, keep meeting friends for dinner, going on trips, etc etc fucking etc??? Then there are the people who are in denial, who refuse to test, refuse to acknowledge they may have Covid because… who the fuck even knows why? It makes no sense to me.

There is no such thing as “just a cold” in my house any more. Because there is no such thing as “just a cold” pretty much anywhere in the world any more. In fact, I haven’t had JUST A COLD since December 2019. Gee must’ve had something to do with everyone wearing masks, washing hands, paying attention… though I did finally succumb to Covid in October 2022, just two weeks before I was scheduled for the second booster (fuck fuck fuck). “Mild” symptoms, ten days testing positive, twelve days spent at home until I got two consecutive negative tests, so as not to infect other people. I don’t understand why this is a hard concept to take in, or why people think it’s somehow okay to infect others with a potentially fatal illness, or one that could result in life-long incapacity.

I do understand that we all can’t afford to take time off (god knows I can’t) and I fully acknowledge I take some personal risks that I probably shouldn’t but I have to work and, just like everyone, I want to have a bit of my old life back. Those are my personal choices that I make for myself. But for me to decide… hey, flatmate is down with Covid but so far I’m okay so I’m not going to tell anyone unless I have to… who the fuck even thinks like this? The mind reels. And the heart hurts.