Back in March, about ten days before everything changed, a friend who sustains himself on a mains supply of Wellington insider gossip wrote in our Facebook group that he was hearing rumours this pandemic was getting way serious and the government was about to slow-march us down to a stop and send us all home and could anyone confirm this?
It chilled me. God, really? Could it seriously come to that? How could that possibly work? How could you do that without getting buried in an economic crash?
Inside two weeks the whole thing was reality. Remarkably, by that day we had stopped panic buying toilet paper, and the teddies were going up in the windows, it all seemed viable, and we could get through it okay. And it was. And we did.
