Corona Diaries, part two: Many people still take "social distancing" personally - and that is dangerous

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For two weeks I have been keeping a personal coronary diary. Here you can read what the state of emergency is doing to my mood, my work, my everyday life, my friendships, my quirks and my partnership.

Monday
18:09: I throw the key to my flat to a friend of mine from a distance of two metres. She is in town on business and will live in my apartment for a while while while I am with my boyfriend.

18:10: For this short time she has a whole lot of suitcases with her, which her taxi driver is just lifting out of the car. He wants to put one in my hand. I evade and ask him to just put the suitcase on the floor so I can take it myself. "It's all right, about Corona," he says insulted. He laughs bitterly. I automatically get a bad conscience.

18:28: The acquaintance and I are done carrying the suitcase. I quickly wash my hands thoroughly. The friend looks irritated and I have the feeling: she resents me. She has the feeling that I consider her and her luggage unhygienic.

10:10 p.m.: I cannot fall asleep. "Social Distancing" should actually be called "Physical Distancing", I think. I keep physical distance from others, but I am still as social as ever. Am I not? After all, I still helped my friend to carry her. And I was also polite to the taxi driver. Hm.

Tuesday
2:09: The child is back. Together we paint a flyer for our favourite Italian, on which we advertise his new delivery service. But I don't want to bring the flyer personally because of distance and contact restrictions, I explain to the child. He looks astonished. And again I have a bad conscience, as if it was not appropriate.

3:00 pm: The child misses his best friend. They decide to make a landline phone call. The '90s are back!

15:01: I listen to the beginning of the child's conversation and have to grin. The kids are overwhelmed. Usually they just play something together, but they are not big talkers. "Hello", says child one into the webcam. "Hello. Uh. How are you", says child two. The conversation doesn't get much more meaningful. Nevertheless, both are beaming. Finally they meet again.

Wednesday
6:03: I have to go to the drugstore. On the way there, I meet a man whom I avoid in order not to get closer than a meter and a half. He looks at me, coughs demonstratively and says in the tone of a stubborn child: "Corona, Corona!" And then, "You're all so ridiculous!"

I'm confused. He too apparently took my distance personally. Even though we haven't even met. Once again I feel guilty. But it soon dawns on me: I am not the one doing something wrong here. If this guy behaves like this towards others, if he coughs on them and doesn't follow the rules of distance, then he endangers the general public.

18:28: I'm cooking a broccoli-carrot stew, which I would give a solid C plus. The man and the child are positively surprised, I can see it in their eyes. Outrageous. Just because my cooking repertoire otherwise consists of just two "dishes" (cottage cheese with canned tuna and scrambled eggs) doesn't mean that I'm not capable of more refined dishes!

20:09: I am on the phone with a friend who lives all alone. His job is temporarily on hold. "I feel like a monkey in a cage," he says. "Somehow I can't seem to get the hang of reading a book either." "Why?" I ask. He pauses for a moment. "Could be because I don't have a book."

Thursday
14:40: I go into the living room and find the child sitting completely under a woollen blanket tent, not even his head sticking out. The sun had shone into his iPad. It is a typical problem these days.

16:06: I suddenly wonder if I was frightened: Is the child still there? I run into the living room. Yes, there he is, squatting in his tent. I hand him a glass of water and a cinnamon bun in his new home. "Wicked, thank you", he muttered from under the covers.

Friday
11:14: I put the child's cloth football into the washing machine. It comes running enthusiastically: "I have found a ball substitute: toilet paper!" It kicks a roll of Hakle Soft as a Dream in my direction. I really need to talk to this kid about his use of precious resources.

13:44: The child and my friend went to get "a few little things" and come back with two full shopping bags. I look at them in surprise. "We're hoarding now!" cries the child enthusiastically. Oh dear.

Saturday
13:11: As I go out for a moment, I see from a safe distance the stalls of a weekly market. It is about as crowded as on any normal Saturday, I can see that from a distance. I am speechless. I take that personally now.

16:23: I am incredibly tired and irritated. The man is practicing the piano and the child is skyping with his friend while I try to read a book on the sofa. It does not work. I read aloud to myself to drown out piano and Skype sounds. I wonder what others would think if they could see me like this. Probably that I've gone crazy. But whatever. There are no "others" right now.

Sunday
12:39: I am on the phone with my brother. He works at a gas station and is therefore exposed to the risk of infection every day. Understandably, he doesn't like it when his colleagues cough, sneeze or squeeze past him in the narrow hallway behind the sales room during shift changes. However, he tells me that these colleagues often react angrily to his concern. "No, I don't have a Corona," a colleague recently chided him. As if my brother had accused her of something terrible. Why should she feel personally offended by his concern?

20:45: A friend calls. "Crazy times, isn't it?" she greets me. I wonder how much longer we're gonna keep using that phrase. And realize how much I long for less craziness and more boredom.

Coronavirus - a topic that concerns us all right now. Both personally and professionally. What are you experiencing? What do you move? Feel free to send us an email with your stories to contact@businessinsider.de.