It’s hard to imagine forgetting the momentous world events of 2020, but human memory is a tricky thing and the Groundhog Day repetition spawned by lockdown has further complicated matters.
To some 2020 was a chaotic dumpster fire of a year, but what memories of it will we store away? Martin Newman
On Wednesday 15 April, I woke up at 7am, scrolled through my phone and took my dog for a walk. I worked at my desk, ate lunch, went for a run and did more work. I cooked something for dinner; I can’t remember what.
At least, this is what I think I did. I can’t recall anything, really, about 15 April. And not just 15 April, but almost any day from the past nine months. Like millions of others all over the world, I am suffering from a pandemic-induced malady: successive, monotonous lockdowns blending all the days into one.
