I should announce right off the bat that I entered and left my home several times, travelling to and from various potentially busy locations. My flat-mate seems to be riddled with Coronavirus, but it’s fine, because I kept leaving and coming back to the flat in order to check if it was fine for me to leave the flat – or if it wasn’t fine and I would need to leave the flat and stay somewhere else until he got over it (if he had it) and until I presumably got over it too (presuming I had it). In this statement I will address concerns over the last time I left the flat, because I spent all night on a timeline, whilst completely ignoring all those other times I left.
We couldn’t stay in the flat because we were really exceptionally bored. With that in mind, I exercised some personal discretion and made a judgement call that it was fine for me to break the rules around keeping everyone safe. I decided that my breaking the rules would somehow keep everyone else safe – but mostly me. And I figured that it didn’t really matter how many safe-guarding rules I broke in order to do that.
It seemed safest to travel somewhere nearby – so I went to Kerry. It’s really beautiful there, but also very remote. There was no one else around for, oh, my, it must have been 50 metres at least. That’s 25 times the safe distance! Safe 25 times over! Obviously we had people come to the door of our mass of concrete in order to leave supplies, but they were coming from up to 50 metres away sometimes, so I think that’s fine.
The mass of concrete was really no place to envy, by the way. It was a bare, grey mass. Barely bigger than several sheds stacked on top of each other in all directions. Really only about 5 sheds high, 7 sheds across and about 10 sheds deep. Tiny. And pure, unadorned concrete. With insulation, of course. And plumbing and wiring and ultra-fast fibre-optic and a bounteous wine cellar. And then this stucco outer layer that I wasn’t keen on, but it was draped with curtains of ivy that were really lovely. The way they snaked around the gargoyles in sylvan sighs really helped offset the otherwise forbidding look of that concrete under all those other layers.
We never stopped on the journey there, by the way. Not once. Such was the urgency – and such was my concern for the welfare of others – that I exercised my personal discretion once more and drove through every red light on the way there. I don’t own a car and can’t legally drive, but I thought really hard about it all Friday night and decided it was fine for me to steal a car. The circumstances, you must understand. They were truly exceptional. No one else is going through this in the way that I am. No one has it as bad as me. I had to steal that car. I won’t apologise for that and I don’t regret it.
Since I’m not entirely familiar with how to drive a car, I first reversed it into a wall and then drove it forward into a facing wall. I then drove into an alleyway that was much too small and got the car partially wedged at the sides. I felt it prudent to test my depth perception before I embarked on such a long car journey. It is worth adding that I first drove (according to my approximate understanding of the rules of the road) to my parent’s home and forced them into the car. For some reason I thought it was vitally important they be there whilst I tested this. Satisfied that I was safe to drive, I then deposited them home with only minor injuries.
I also visited Barnard Castle but that’s not relevant.
Once I arrived in Kerry, clothes starched from dried-in urine (WE COULD NOT STOP ON THAT TRIP), I found passing the time difficult. I watched a documentary on Robert Scott’s doomed expedition to the South Pole. I was particularly struck by the final words of his first mate, stiff upper-lip froze in place as he stood to leave their blizzard beleaguered tent:
“I’m going out now. I may be some time. I want to test my eyesight for the next 20 miles.”
For much of the time I was laid up with what was definitely, absolutely Coronavirus. I’ve never felt so weak in my life, but I knew I had to preserve my strength. The fuel had all been used up on the drive down, and for the sake of public safety I knew I couldn’t stop for more. Being unsure how cars work and what exactly fuel is (rainbow-y water that smells nice?), I tried using various bodily fluids as a substitute. A combination of eyedust, urine, thrice-distilled faecal water, and coughed-up corona blood had seemed promising, but I decided that the exhaust fumes of corona blood may be environmentally unsafe.
I would have to push. It was the only way.
Unfortunately, technology has not come far enough to enable me to work remotely, so it was vitally important that I get back to my flat in order to use my work laptop there. I had numerous video-conferences and telephone calls scheduled in to take place in my bedroom, and in this crisis I knew that I simply had to be there. I am that important at whatever I do.
My staying in place was simply out of the question.
I appreciate that guidelines dictate that should be in the question – and, indeed, that they are in fact orders rather than questions – but I felt there was a certain greyness within “Do not leave where you are” that was open to personal discretion. That greyness wasn’t there until I thought of it, and for the purposes of public health the greyness has now been restored to stark, final monochrome.
My circumstances were unique and these personal, discretionary choices apply only to me. I don’t regret what I did, but no one else should do it, and, in fact, no one else can do it. Even if your circumstances are worse.
And especially if you are poor.
It is worth noting that these exceptions employed by me especially do not apply to the lower-classes. As we are all well aware, they are to remain exactly where they were when we locked down – be that at home, in work, in a foreign country, locked mid-stride on the way home, out for a run, entangled in a game of twister, fallen over on the street, etc etc – along with other lower forms of life, including, but not limited to – toads, badgers, midges, amoeboids, inedible fungi, and herring.
In order to test if I was well enough to push the car, I first pushed the car all the way home. Content that I was well enough, I then pushed the car back to Kerry in order to travel up again.
I discussed my coming back to work with my boss, but I can’t recall exactly what we said. We were both far too sick to really be lucid and probably mostly just coughed. Either way, we agreed that I was fine to return to work, and that I should announce my return by visiting each of my co-workers at home and shaking their hands. If I have not visited you yet, my apologies, pushing the car is very tiring. I also apologise in advance for the hacking cough and for any blood particles that may be projected into your eyeballs.
It was a busy few days.
Almost Always Anything 