#storieswithcovid

There wasn’t anyone walking on sidewalks despite it only being eleven in the morning. It might have to do with the pandemic, or it could have been because it was Sunday, Either way, it was a quiet morning. There wasn’t much sun, and it was still cold outside even though it was spring, it felt more like winter. In an old apartment building on the edge of Scarborough, two sisters and a cat lazed in their living room watching the latest Netflix had to offer in K-drama. It was another day in the life of staying home or potentially killing someone by not practising social distancing. And within this apartment, social distance was not a thing. The younger sister who smoked tended to cough, was this Covid? This could be considered boring, but it wasn’t, only because someone was in the same boat. There were still some people who felt it was their right to protest being forced to stay at home. There were still some people who claimed that the new killer virus was all a hoax. There were still people who believed they were Wolverine and invincible because they had not experienced what this new virus had to offer. Of course there were the usual conspiracies, all government and money hungry corporate leaders who built devices to annihilate the masses were blamed.

But think about it. If a cell tower was the cause of the mass amount of deaths in this world, who, but us silly workers that work voluntarily in the rat race to purchase mundane things at high prices give money too if not them?

Lets not go off on a tangent now, we’re talking about two sisters with a cat in Scarborough running out of things to watch on Netflix. Now, where were we? Oh yes, there wasn’t much to do because there was no where to go. It wasn’t just the two of them, there was an older sister, and a mother who also lived in this place we call Canada. Did you ask where the father was? Well he was wherever he was with his family. Not his first one. Just the one he chose. Anyhoot; shall I tell you who the ones in this story of Covid-19 are?

You know one of them so far. Me. It’s me. The one writing.

It was March 10th when I punched out from work for the last time. It was after the last hockey game where I made jokes and interacted with people, some I liked and most I tried with. Inside I hoped we would be shut down (who likes working with angry and mean entitled clients who don’t understand the concept of how food cooks?) and another part wished that the virus would not reach this building that held 20,000 people watching sports and concerts (I want to make money and I like what I did). I think it was a press conference with a basketball player, who touched everything on his way out of a press conference and tested positive for the virus, was one of the factors it was shut down (I’m probably wrong, but it's what I saw before it all shut down). I remember seeing it in a Google news feed and just feeling my stomach drop.

It’s real.

Then I thought about clients the last time I worked in the building, laughing and smiling about how they just came back from a place where the virus was there. Laughing about how it was a secret and that it didn’t matter because they weren’t sick. Laughing about how they were in a position where they couldn’t be told ‘NO’. They made a salary and were paid for sick leave, what did they care about the one who made sure their experience was one to remember or if their pizza was hot enough. They made more in a month than what I could dream for in a year. I’m used to it. I believe in working your way up.

I wasn’t. I was where they started.

I was angry.

Here I am working a service industry job that offers no stability or benefits where I could work from home, and here was this person who laughed the whole pandemic off because they were on salary and could work from home with sick pay and enjoyed the benefits of watching a sporting event without having to pay for anything.

Whatever.

This isn’t a social paper. It’s not for my now online class. It's for me and others like me who will read it. I feel like a viewer in the events of the world because no one close to me has been affected. There is such a loose process on what this virus is that I’m pretty sure I had it, but I’m not sure. There isn’t anywhere to get tested because all the news tells you is to call your doctor or nearest hospital. Because it’s not a serious case, you should just stay home (which is right). This says nothing to mental welfare to the one that is experiencing this. I should know, I feel like I had the virus, but if you compare it with others and what’s in the news “It ain’t that serious.” WTF. It’s all serious.

But this is me. This is my character. I internalize to the point of destruction and can’t help myself.

So, now you know one of the characters and some of the Covid story. I hope I get to know you and your story.

Share your stores to glue@tovoice.ca to add to the digital book of our time


5 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All