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This pandemic has affected us in so many ways. Each of us has struggled the past three months to cope with isolation, anxieties and fears.

One unfortunate outcome for me lately is that I can’t seem to sit still long enough to read a book. Of course, it might be related to my choice of books; I should just put one aside and try for another.

In my real-life, I used to read on the buses while commuting to and from the day job. I haven’t taken a bus since March 12th, when I lugged home my laptop with the approval of my Manager to perform remote work the following day.

Coincidentally, I had recently gone for medical tests for symptoms I thought were related to heart health and stress. My intuition was already telling me that sh*t was about to happen due to the reports of COVID-19 infections and deaths worldwide.

I am fortunate that I can perform my real-life IT work from home. I feel fortunate that I still have a paying job. I have my health. I am able to maintain contact with family and friends but cannot see them physically.

I am lonely. I am losing a sense of purpose.

I am at a loss since all public libraries shut down their physical access. Thank goodness they boosted online services and announced they would forgive overdue loans; they had to since they didn’t want people depositing books in the return chutes.

All the used bookshops shut down too, posting signs for patrons, and for people wanting to donate items to just keep them at home. I really miss the bookshop where I would volunteer most Saturdays. I miss the other volunteer friends, library staff and the regular patrons. A lot of the latter are Seniors, economically disadvantaged and physically challenged. I pray that they keep healthy and safe.

I don’t know if or when I will go back.


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