It feels surreal.

It feels surreal to be in the middle of a slow-motion catastrophe. Sometimes, life feels just entirely normal - there are orders to be packed (thank you for keeping my business running!), there are blog posts to be written, the cat wants to be let out. It's getting warm again outside, the sun is shining, the trees are starting to show first leaf buds.

And then, suddenly, it hits home again. The unusual, eerie quiet from the kindergarden and school right around the corner. The fact that all our events and planned meetings with family and friends (yes, down to meeting just two other people for a game night) are called off. The fact that I'm not sitting here alone, typing along, but on a desk in the same room, there's the Most Patient Husband of Them All, typing along as well in his quest to conquer the Home Office.

It is weird, and it's hard to process. Our world is definitely changing, and all this will leave a lot of traces. There's hope, though. We can flatten the curve if we all cut down on our social contacts for a bit, even, yes, even if it seems weird and excessive. The thing is - what seems excessive now might save our ass tomorrow (or, importantly, our grannies' asses). If you're in a country that isn't hit as hard yet, please don't make the easy mistake that almst everyone does and underestimate this danger. Stay home. Call off meetings. Ask for home office possibilities. Call off your social engagements, even the small ones. Phone your loved ones, and make sure they know about how serious the situation is. Every little bit of distance counts.

Even if taking your distance now should prove to have been a little excessive in a few months... I'd rather do that, and be considered a bit weird, than spread the virus. We don't get a second chance in this.