Mar. 25th, 2020

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(Never mind the smelling bottle to cure the flu, what about the arsenical soap, ideal for the complexion?)

A weird, end-of-term feeling at work yesterday. The building was already closed to the public and a lot of the admin staff working from home already, so the ground floor was deserted. Word came through after lunch that those of us on the first floor were being sent home too.

The payroll lady had to get groceries for her parents at lunch time, so she also bought a carton of chocolate eggs for us to have a farewell party, sitting at our well-spaced desks. Then I signed my Working From Home During the Covid-19 Pandemic Emergency Agreement, packed my stuff, picked up my new council-issued laptop, and came home for the foreseeable future. Except for next Tuesday, when I have permission to enter the building in the afternoon to do the month-end rollover.

Being the New Person at work is humbling. Everyone has been very helpful, showing me the way round the software. And now the tables have turned: they're all long-term council employees, used to working in the same space, and here's me, veteran of multi-office organisations, knowledgeable about electronic signatures and instant messaging. Finally, I am useful.

The news tonight was twenty-five solid minutes on covid-19, followed by the newsreader saying this: "And now for some non-coronavirus news, a five-point-two metre rare white snake was found in a Queensland house today." The apocalypse rolls on, then.

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