You could write a year in review of 2020 in just the one single word: Covid.
Yep, Covid, that’s it.
Say Covid and it’s enough for a seven year old to know what sort of 12 months we’ve just gone through.
Hell.
Yep, that’s another one word essay on 2020.
Or you could say we’ve been to hell and back, except we’re not back yet.
Rollercoaster is another one, feeling sick with anxiety for a few weeks, than calming down for a while before the tsunami of fear returns to engulf us.
It happened in Melbourne, it’s happening to us here in Greater Sydney, and it has happened numerous times in countries all over the world.
And it has also divided us up into little Coronavirus tribes scratching each other’s faces on social media.
We have every kind you can think of: there’s the pandemic conspiracy tribe, those who just don’t believe it’s real, to those at the other end who are under the doona chanting: we’re all going to die.
Then there’s all those other tribes squeezed in between the two extremes, broadly fitting the description of the sensible centre, more or less.
Let’s not forget the righteous religious nutters who believe the pandemic is God’s vengeance on us for our immoral ways, from getting drunk to fornicating.
Either way it has been a thrashing – the scoreboard reads: Covid 10 Humanity 0.
And for heaven’s sake the pandemic’s impact is about to roll over into a brand New Year.
All our plans to kick off the New Year with friends and relatives have also been scuppered by Mr Covid.
At least there is some redemption from this suffering, surely?
We’re more resilient, patient and even more understanding of each other, aren’t we?
In a word, no.
The truth is the more things change the more they stay the same – and humans are not immune to this law of nature.
Still, the pandemic will eventually end, won’t it?
Yes, but don’t ask when.
