Don’t Panic

I’m a pretty shabby audio processor (just ask anyone who’s ever conversed with me), so whenever I hear the command “shelter in place” I associate it with the French culinary phrase mise en place which means essentially “everything in its place”-often in an assortment of small bowls optimally arranged for Instagram. How does this tic affect me? The view from my mind’s eye looks like a Bon Appetit photo shoot.

I’ve come to appreciate that this bizarro form of synesthesia has crowded out more anxious imagery from my mind. Despite the pandemic, or perhaps because of it, I’m relatively immune to both panic and conspiracy theories. Sure, COVID-19 is precisely what we might expect from a James Bond villain but I’m too blissed out with the Marie Kondo kitchen in my mind to fret.

Is the coronavirus the karmic revenge of an apparently delicious pangolin (thanks NY Times)? Did the Pope spread COVID-19 to Italy? Not my problem-I’m too busy relearning the mysterious ways of the can opener.

Perhaps my immunity to outright panic is a defense mechanism conditioned by the fact that we’ve been pre-figuring the End Times since the beginning of time. I’ll forgo making a list of dystopian and apocalyptic fiction and films for fear of crowding out more salient information on the Internet like memes about “The Panic” at Costco.