We are still here.
Not much has changed. We’ve taken to making our own bread rather than using a bread maker. Drinking more expensive coffee. We have a stain above our left eye which we hope against hope is cancerous. Our hair is greyer and our face, kindly put, more careworn.
We continue to clean. We love cleaning, for what it gives (a clean house), and for what it means. (Chaos defeated by order).
All of this time has passed. And all of it, if we are being honest, wasted. Knowingly, recklessly, spitelessly wasted. Time we have not got, we have spent. Wasted. Wasted in work. Wasted in code. Wasted in dozes and walks around Sainsburys and country parks. Waiting for something to happen. But nothing has changed. The universe has not reacted, recoiled or cursed us, more than we are already cursed. The universe has continued.
And so will we