The teaching semester has not even started and I am already waiting for my housemate's Covid test results. As the effect of schools and unis reopening and the summer festivals kick in, Covid is going to spread far and fast. I better get used to news like this because it is going to come thick and fast. There is no point in fretting because there is too much to fret about. Its tough not knowing what tomorrow will bring, but such is life at the moment. Yesterday, when Betty told us, I debated whether to tell the people around me at uni or not. Telling others is an act of honesty but it is also a way to alleviate your own nervousness by making others more nervous. Putting the onus on them and indemnifying yourself from guilt or responsibility. "I told you, and would have stayed away if you asked me to. If anything happens to you, that's not on me now". It is giving the opposite person a difficult choice. To be an asshole by telling you stay away or worry about getting infected by you.
Not ideal, but what's the alternative? You gamble that the test is negative and then deal with the fallout if it turns positive? I did that in December and got burnt, so I am not doing it again. So, I am going to go by the book and not worry about the consequences. If I have to miss classes because I have to self-isolate, that's not my fault. Chances are I will have to either miss classes or substitute for other people. Neither is a savory outcome but that can't be helped. what will be, will be.
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