I’m not sure how I feel about these virtual meetings that have been thrust upon us by COVID-19.
Actually, I am sure how I feel. They’re great for everyone except me. I am not looking forward to the one I’m joining at 9am.
It’s ironic because I’ve been banging on about it being a wonderful idea for years. I find it baffling that companies were spending so much money flying people around the globe to sit around a conference table together when they could have a perfectly acceptable virtual meeting instead.
I’d even wondered if virtual reality conferences would work, where you wear those special goggles and it feels like you’re actually sitting at the conference table with everyone.
But actually SEEING myself on the computer screen during video meetings has been a bit confronting.
I look so ooooooooooold. And so does my house.
Previously I didn’t know what other people saw when they looked at me. Now I do. And it doesn’t match my inner picture of myself. On the inside I think I still look the same as I did 20 years ago.
However, most of my collagen has departed in recent years and left deep furrows in its wake.
Fortunately my bank account is safe from a panicked visit to a plastic surgeon because all elective surgery in Australia has been cancelled.
That seems to be a bit of a flaw in the government’s approach to ensuring we have enough intensive care beds for the crisis, as it has resulted in private hospitals standing down nurses.
I think I’d prefer to hear ScoMo discuss how he’s sorting that out rather than offering weird examples of what’s an essential reason to leave the house.
“Our kids are at home now, as are most kids, and Jenny went out yesterday and bought them a whole bunch of jigsaw puzzles,” he said on Sunday night.
“I can assure you over the next few months we will consider those jigsaw puzzles absolutely essential.”
I decided a visit to DD was absolutely essential last night. I made him comfort food: Keens curried sausages. He loved them.
I bought the ingredients on my weekly grocery shop, where I discovered my local supermarket still didn’t have pasta, rice or flour. The weevils are going to have an absolute field day in panic buyers’ pantries over the coming weeks.
DD sent me a very funny video by a chef who is completely affronted that people are buying jars of carbonara sauce in anticipation of lock down.
Do not watch it if you have a problem with swearing because it’s virtually one long string of profanities.
I’m a bit petrified that a potential lock down will mean I can’t see DD, so I’m taking every chance to drive the 26km to his house. I know it means I’m not staying the eff at home, but I’m also not spreading anything by just heading straight to his place … am I? I dunno. I regard him as an essential reason to leave the house, but this self isolation thing is getting pretty intense.
Dr Norman Swan explained on ABC’s Coronacast that couples who don’t share a home can still see each other if they are taking all the precautions – including no physical touch and keeping at least a 1.5m distance between each other.
Ah well, the kids are back this morning to defile my kitchen and keep me toiling indoors. Hurrah!
Take care. Stay well. Catch you tomorrow.
Song of the day: Well, hello, an old friend alerted me to the fact that former Split Enz members Eddie Rayner, Tim Finn and Noel Crombie, have teamed up with Second Thoughts Enz producer and legendary Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera, in a new band called the Forenzics.
Their first release is a mixed bag. It has some gorgeous bits, but they’re entwined with some wacky, rock opera-style ones.
And you know you’re getting on when you find yourself thinking “Tim Finn is pretty foxy at 67” …. though he does remind me a bit of an older DD … maybe that’s what it is …
Here’s the clip …
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