By Rachel King
Dear Coronavirus,
I can say with nearly 100% confidence there is nothing else in the world that is hated more than you.
What’s the big idea, corona? You swoop into wherever you can find someone to contaminate and then you suck the fun out of their surroundings. You started in Wuhan, China, jumped over to Milan, Italy, spread like wildfire throughout Europe, and, as if that wasn’t enough, you moseyed your way over to the United States to ruin us, too. You’re out of control.
First, you closed our bars and clubs. Then, you closed our non-essential businesses. Finally, you closed our restaurants, and that was the last straw. How are we supposed to savor our favorite impossible-to-recreate dishes now?
Next, you trapped us in our homes. Sure, it was all fun and games at first. No pressure to socialize, excuses to stay in, bonding time with the family. But it’s all only bearable for so long, and apparently, “long” is only two weeks. How are we supposed to spend months like this? I can’t laugh at Instagram memes forever. Actually, I can, but I really shouldn’t.
More than anything else, you stripped us of our toilet paper. I never knew how important toilet paper, paper towels, and flour were until they were all sold out at the grocery store. You’ve transformed kind, loving neighbors into selfish hoarders, and my empty toilet paper roll will never forgive you for it.
So, thanks for raining on everyone’s parade and putting the world at a standstill. I look forward to your demise.
Your Worst Nightmare,
Quarantined 4 Life
The Spread 