Cabin fever – dazed and depressed a month after Sheraton Move

COMMENT | Welcome to dystopia, my friend. The streets are largely abandoned, and a frequently grey horizon is patrolled by security forces. Food and supplies, while seemingly abundant, are being hunted down like they are on the verge of extinction. Mobility is tightly controlled. And our lives are reduced to its basic needs of water, food, shelter and clothing – with nary an end in sight.

Ok ok, that’s a bleak picture because it won’t always be like this. This is temporary – just like our last battle with the haze – and this too shall pass and when life returns to normal, it won’t be long before we’ll have forgotten all the important lessons of the partial lockdown of March and April 2020.

Right now my daily routine involves sifting through a myriad of coronavirus-related stories and chatting online with my friends and family about how they are coping with Covid-19. The only breaks are surrounding myself with music and anything that gives me laughter, which to me is a critical coping mechanism.

Still, I know I’m down with cabin fever.

Cabin fever is that distressing sense of claustrophobia or restlessness one feels upon being stuck at an isolated location or in confined quarters for an extended period of time.

I haven’t got it real bad but I did wake up the other day wondering longingly about...