Stay Home Sweet Home

You've been served.

Two weeks.

No human interaction, no stepping out of your premises, no nonsense.

If I don't obey this Stay Home Notice, I'll likely be thrown in jail.

Between six months' imprisonment and two weeks at home, the choice is obvious.

Yet, staying indoors with zero face-time with fellow humans is unbearable.

All my life, my adult life, I had been active.

Socially active.

Physically active.

And right now, I'm mentally active.

Too active, in fact.

I'm thinking way too much for my own good I think I am on the verge of a mental breakdown.

How will I ever survive 14 days confined to four walls?

Okay, it's 10 walls to be exact.

I was so bored I actually counted the number of walls in my apartment.

For the next 14 days, I would be holed up and cut off from interaction with the outside world.

Even Food Panda guys were to leave all my purchases outside the door.

For their own good, it's best they treated me as if I had leprosy.

I'm not complaining.

At least, I get to shout "thank you" to an actual human being.

That beats having a conversation with my tissue box earlier today.

By Day Two, I was imagining how the outside world would progress while I spent my time indoors.

When I eventually stepped out, would there be zombies?

Of course, I shouldn't be complaining.

I'm not alone.

In fact, from today, hordes of visitors flying in to Singapore -- whether they're locals or foreigners -- will have to serve a mandatory two-week stay home notice.

All these are part of efforts of the authorities to contain COVID19, a virus that's spreading way faster than any leaked sex video.

I take heart that I'm able to play a part in this.

For those who're newly flying into Singapore, here's what to expect.

• Before you get out of Changi Airport, you'll have to fill in a form, complete with your personal and flight details
• Thereafter, if you show no signs of COVID19, you'll be able to take a cab home
• Wind down the window en route to your home, breathe in the warm air -- that would be the last time you'd be seeing the outside world for a while
• Once you reach home, you'll have to say indoors for the next two weeks 
• Soon, someone from ICA will ring you -- just to ensure you're at home
• And then, you'll receive SMS-es from ICA with links
• Do note that it will look really dubious: The sender, though marked "ICA" will raise all sorts of suspicion because it will appear as "ICA.ID.GOV.SG/dubious random numbers
• It will also come in Mandarin -- even the English version of instructions comes across as broken
• When I first received it, I refused to click on it -- I made at least 5 calls to various departments who eventually confirmed they are legitamte 
• A day later, ICA sent out a notice saying that there've been a lot of queries about the legitimacy of its SMSes... and that they are legit
• Once I got that sorted out, I clicked on the link every time ICA sent me a message to ascertain my location (I soon learnt to appreciate it because a) it was an assurance the authorities are taking this Stay Home Notice seriously and b) I felt like someone was visiting me in prison and I took heart in those one-sided interactions

During your two-week SHN, you can order Food Panda. 

You can have your family members live with you.

You can do whatever you want -- as long  as you don't leave your home.

It can be extremely boring, I warn you.

For a former marathoner and triathlete who, up until recently have been running, swimming, cycling on a daily basis, staying indoors is a torture.

My daily average step count has been a grand total of 200. 

But there are simple joys to be found in my confinement period.

I didn't need to shave (so far, my bosses haven't called on me to appear on air via skype -- but when I do, I'll wear a suit on top, and just my Myanmar longyi -- or sarong -- below).

I also only needed to shower once a day. Nobody is going to sniff my armpits. 

There's no ironing for me to do since I won't be heading out any time soon.

And though I'm working from home, I am free to be creative: I can choose to sit in bed, on the couch, beside the fridge, under the table, beside the window, on the toilet bowl, or lie flat on my belly on the prickly living room carpet while I typed furiously on my office issued laptop.

And in the midst of this SHN, I have come to feel the love of friends and family.

I have received at least two gift baskets (I never knew I loved packages that much) -- one from a dear, dear friend, and one from family.

And I've had endless offers from close friends offering to risk their lives, buy me groceries and send them over to me.

I am indeed heartened.

As I write this, I'm into Day Three of my SHN.

I'm still holding up.

I may have begun talking out loud to myself today, but I figure I have the mental capacity to get through this.

I imagine that by Day Six, I may have to fight off the urge to have an intellectual debate on geopolitics with my coffee table.

By Day Nine, I may look at the living room carpet and think it might be a good idea to eat the colourful bits for lunch.

But I shall be strong.

The last thing I want is for the authorities to force open my door on Day 18, eventually worried about all the missed calls made to me. 

My greatest fear is that they'd find the walls being scratched with my fingernails. 

And...under the dining table... I'm very scared that they might find a poor Food Panda delivery guy who'd been forcefully dragged indoors on Day 13, knocked unconscious, his corpse half eaten. 

And then, the authorities might find me sitting alone in a corner, my arms protectively wrapping around my knees as I cradle back and forth, humming creepily to myself.

No. 

That won't -- and can't -- happen.

This is merely a two-week Stay Home Notice.

It's the least I can do.

The nation is fighting COVID19 and I should be proud I'm doing what I can.

I will not give up.

And  I will -- 

-- wait a minute. 

I think I hear the Food Panda guy ringing the doorbell and from the sounds of it, he seems to make a delicious meal....

Leong Wai Kit -- who is back in Singapore from Myanmar -- is still sane at time of writing this blog piece