Guilty Thoughts While on Lockdown

I have a confession to make: I really don't mind being on lockdown all that much.

I'm sure for some people it is maddening. For an introvert like me, however, no big deal. Sure, it would be nice not to worry about how many trips I make per week to the grocery store. Or not to wear a mask, as I have now taken to doing.

But let's face it, I more or less like reading books. When there is no pandemic, I spend my time reading and working. When there is a pandemic... I spend my time reading and working. I don't require a lot of social interaction, and although I like my neighbors, colleagues, fellow parishioners, etc, etc, I would be lying if I said that I deeply miss all that human contact.

But I feel a little guilty about feeling so complacent. For one thing, I'm not sure that this doesn't simply reveal a character defect of mine! But quite apart from that, I know that my ability to feel complacent rests in many ways upon my own good fortune. For instance:

I have a job that can be relatively easily moved online and done from home.
My family has been healthy.
I live in an isolated, rural area that has not been nearly as hard-hit by the virus as other places.
It would be nice to go someplace occasionally, but let's face it, there isn't really anyplace to go in Houghton even in the best of times!

I suspect I might feel differently if I were a front-line health care worker who had to show up everyday in mid-town Manhattan, where the usually bustling life around me had suddenly shut down.

Not that I have nothing to worry about, mind you. All of higher education is shaking in its shoes at the fear of what next fall could bring.

But for now, I just work and read books. It could be worse.

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Plague Time

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