So, the lockdown is here. The city was quiet and empty when I walked to the office this morning, after a weekend spent at home. Before you get upset with me: I have an obligation to be in the office this week because of the nature of my work. It is very likely, however, that I will spend much less time there than I usually do and I will definitely stay home in the evenings and once my shift is over on Friday.

While this whole thing feels surreal, I cannot say I’m surprised, at least not on a fundamental level. I am not entirely kidding when I say that reading Science Fiction preps your mind for this sort of thing (the same is true for climate change and the digital revolution). I’m also not scared: I seem to be incapable of fear for myself (my risk radar is notoriously dysfunctional) and as I’m hardly in contact with anyone, I’m probably not a danger for others, in case I have the dormant virus myself. So while I take the situation and the need to self-isolate very seriously, I also feel calm and gentle.

During the last week, I have been thinking about my friends and family more than I have for years – and have been in touch with them as well, which they can tell you is not always the case. I have thought about people I don’t know, about old people, poor people, people in other countries with scary governments. I have donated more than ever and not just related to the ongoing crisis. I have considered how I can change my shopping habits to support small businesses that will struggle. This virus has softened my heart, something I hope it does for many people.

Beyond people, I have been thinking about things I want to do. Very personally (selfishly) speaking, I wonder if social distancing can be – for some – almost a relief. I never have enough time to be at home: in addition to work, where 12-hour days are normal, there is always pressure to go places, see things, consume, travel, engage. It can feel almost liberating when you are given permission to disregard all that. Or maybe it’s just because my ideal entertainment in most cases is staying at home with a book anyway.

There are of course changes I need to make. I already had my French lesson over Skype this weekend and I need to rethink my exercise routine – this morning was the first in many months where I didn’t start my week in the gym. I miss it, but I can work out at home and my trainer will be available over FaceTime. Cancelling my weekly bookshop visit was more painful than I expected – I mean, it’s not like I have nothing to read. To compensate, I have done what any sane person would and ordered 20 books from Amazon. I have also realised that if everyone is at home all the time, we eat industrial quantities of food and I can spend half of my day cooking. Which is fun for a while, but potentially less so on a daily basis.

I’m fully aware that I’m extremely lucky that my biggest problem – at least for now – is making sure I have enough contact lens solution for two weeks. But I’m not going to make myself feel more miserable than strictly necessary. If there is a chance to bake cakes, organise my skincare, get some reading and writing done and watch all the Masterclasses I now have access to, I am going to take it. And I’m also going to see if the things I used to do in the past (and how I used to do them) still seem like a good idea. One thing the crisis has proven, again, is that human beings are hugely adaptable – once we deem something important enough, we can change our behaviour overnight. It’s a good reminder that very few things are impossible or immutable, be it for me or the world.