During the last two years of the pandemic I felt pretty immersed in the collective experience: I suffered from anxiety, isolation, boredom and a lack of exercise. I was unable to visit relatives, and saw whole chunks of my calendar cancelled. I simultaneously complained about and helped to create shortages of common consumer goods. And I grew anxious all over again as restrictions were eased.
But I missed out on one bit of the saga: getting Covid-19. For most of last winter I never went out without coming home and thinking: I bet I’ve caught Covid from that. But I hadn’t.
