Almost everyone’s existence – their partner, their lack of partner, their children, their job – conspires against them when they’re shut inside
Tuesday night in locked-down Sydney, I felt discombobulated at the local Woolworths as Daft Punk’s party anthem Get Lucky played loudly throughout the aisles and all the shoppers were socially distanced, masked and had sad/dead/scared-looking eyes. It’s hard to get a read on people’s mood when they are standing far away, or hurrying away and wearing masks – but the vibe was low.
The pain of lockdown consists of several distinct elements: a big headline-style pain that is understood by all but distributed unevenly. This pain includes financial loss and suffering, unemployment, not being able to access vaccines, being a frontline worker, and of course Covid itself. This is the pain we acknowledge when those of us able to earn from home say that we are privileged, that it could always be worse.
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