The Quarantine Diaries — 6. The sixth day

it’s the same as the other six

As the weeks go by (because as far as now we’re into week 5 and there will still be 3 if not 5 more) the perception that this is a particular period — a parenthesis destined to be remembered as an interval of time that marks a before and an after, but still a fairly long interval of identical days — is fading.

The alienating effect of a overextended weekend is never reset on Monday for days and weeks. There is no day that cyclically and weekly resets the calendar clock to zero and causes the seventh day to end and start over the cycle from the first day. It is always either a sixth or a seventh day of your choice. If I were to lean towards a more accurate definition than another, I would say that it is always a long and unique sixth day. In fact, on the seventh day you know that the first (mon)day will follow and therefore the break is destined to end, the rhythms to change, the times to return to their most regular riverbed. The sixth day is always followed by a seventh and it’s still a day of pause, a filter towards the resumption of normal life or work, in case you’re staying at home and others are working, those who make things work, those who make it seem that everything is fine.

Because that’s just the way it is: everything is basically fine. Everything works, if…