Last Saturday I woke up contemplating the new red button emergency taking effect that day. 

I was inclined to pull up the covers and try to sleep through the next two weeks of isolation suggested for all of us clocked over the 60-year-old threshold.

Crap!  How long will it be before the Covid nightmare ends? It’s like we’re stuck in a terrible real-life version of the flick Ground Hog Day.

Like many others, I was haunted by mixed feelings. Frustration that the situation seems to be getting worse rather than better.  Sadness for all the people who have suffered and died from the disease, including friends and acquaintances. Sympathy for the front-line workers dealing with the pandemic’s daily challenges. Anger towards people who don’t cooperate with the recommendations of health experts. Despair that we’ve been going around in circles for ten months, suffering the Sisyphus syndrome in spades.

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