The 21-day lockdown is only starting today, but after almost a week of self-isolation, I can already inform you that there are 160 tiles on my lounge floor. Which is 34 more than my bathroom walls, if you don’t include the mosaic mirror. The lovely Snapdragon will be at home with me, which will be a change from the loneliness of the last few days, in which my entertainment consisted of reading mostly humourless and self-centred comments on Facebook. “I don’t want to hear jokes from men who say they fear being killed by their wives rather than the virus...
The 21-day lockdown is only starting today, but after almost a week of self-isolation, I can already inform you that there are 160 tiles on my lounge floor.

Which is 34 more than my bathroom walls, if you don’t include the mosaic mirror.

The lovely Snapdragon will be at home with me, which will be a change from the loneliness of the last few days, in which my entertainment consisted of reading mostly humourless and self-centred comments on Facebook.

“I don’t want to hear jokes from men who say they fear being killed by their wives rather than the virus during this lockdown,” a “friend” commented. “They should rather use the time to ask themselves where they went wrong.” Ouch.

In the light of that post, I’ll resist the substantial temptation to comment on the probability that Snapdragon might plunge a veggie knife into my back, and count my blessings instead: I’m not married to that bitter girl. If I were, I probably would have stopped washing my hands.

But, in a way she is right. I have more to worry about.

Unfortunately most of my concerns are selfish: Will I be able to buy cigarettes? How long will it be before I can have my car’s brakes repaired? Will the children’s noise drive me to insanity? Are there steaks in the freezer? Do we really use less toilet paper than other families?

But I can also see the positive influence of this pandemic by looking at Facebook. I don’t think my fellow South Africans have ever been so religious, so dedicated to jogging or so worried about walking the dog as during these last few days.

Some even applaud the decision to prohibit the sale of alcohol. Not many, mind you.

Dear reader, let’s be positive about this lockdown. It’s no Sunday school picnic – not for you, and less so for me. I’m going to be locked in a house with the delightful Snapdragon for 21 days.

Spare a thought for those who will find the next three weeks more difficult than most of us. Uncle Cyril, for example – he looks exhausted on the telly. Our healthcare workers. The elderly and less privileged.

And above all, my bitter Facebook friend. It must be hell to negotiate this challenge without a sense of humour.

We all have to deal with this lockdown_1

Dirk Lotriet.

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