Finally I got her or rather she got me. After fleeing it and having managed to escape it for almost three years already, the COVID, treacherous, cunning like no other, was waiting for me around the bend. She caught me, sly as she is, during a moment of inattention on my part when my back was turned, believing I had lost her along the way.
Madame, that filthy beast, had an eye on me and watched for my slightest weakness. She knew my weaknesses and was patient enough to finally ensnare me. This bitch took hold of me despite all the precautions I had taken to keep her away. Unmasked I became vulnerable. The four doses of vaccine, hand washing and all sorts of other protective measures, she didn’t care. What’s better: she managed to keep me away from all physical activity. That tells you to what extent, such as she is, she hates me.
According to protocol, I therefore found myself stuck at home observing my quarantine, although at my age I had long since passed it. So what do you do when you have nothing to do? I asked myself the question while trying to find an answer or rather hoping to find solutions intended to overcome my idleness imposed by a badly transferred virus.
The first day, spent dealing with colds, coughs, discomfort and fatigue, gifts left surreptitiously, without my knowledge, by the damn COVID, my first reaction was to plant myself in front of the television watching series that resembled each other and never-ending.
Disillusioned, automatically, the following days, I changed course. I started zapping on the news channels continuously. Without stopping, while I was bedridden, the news piled up to make me want to hide under my sheets. The first one that fell on me like a puck on the ice, without breaking it, involved the leaders of Hockey Canada who took a long time to realize that their organization’s actions were not OK. Under the impact of all the attacks they suffered, their defense faltered. Shorthanded they found themselves in the penalty box. Then, by dint of skating on slippery ground, they ended up giving in. No extension for them.
It was time to move on to something else: the price of gasoline for example. The latter has soared to heights hitherto never equaled. At this diet everyone fills up… with rage. Rather opaque these countries of OPEC (OPEC). What do they take us for, bells leaving for Rome at Easter? Until we blame the horrible COVID for this rise, there is only one barrel of oil to cross.
In the midst of this media brouhaha, as the greedy COVID started to act up again, came the municipal elections. Vancouver City Hall finds itself with a new tenant. The outgoing mayor, Kennedy Stewart, despite the support of the city’s firefighters, did not last long; one term only. His opponent, on the other hand, Ken Sim, who had been endorsed by the police union, won “hands down”. It makes me think: unlike Pontius Pilate, I forgot to wash my hands. COVID is enjoying it.
Even today, news from Iran pierces my television screen. I forget about the ferocious COVID. In the land of a thousand and one nights, the days darken in the darkness of repression. In Iran it sucks. While stroking their beards, the country’s religious authorities, these pious people, ruthlessly repress any form of protest. Since the Shah is no longer there, the ayatollahs have been dancing. Not very insightful these Persian rulers. Ah! evil COVID, you make me talk nonsense. Surely I deserve your punishment.
Locked up at home for too long at the mercy of COVID, I’m starting to get delirious. With horror I see the wrong direction in which our world is heading. Like a ship adrift, it turns completely to the right and heads straight for an abyss of unfathomable depth. What a pain. So in Italy it fascinates who better. At the door of power, Giorgia Meloni promises us an unfortunate return to the duce’s fascism. My perch ? In Sweden, too, the right and the extreme right are taking over the country. They make me sweat, these Swedes.
But then, what does the left do? Just like me, she must be a victim of the monstrous COVID and has decided to quarantine herself. The question is how long?