Hurrah! (she says, sarcastically). As you read this, we have begun UK lockdown number two. Locked up for the next month – or the whole month of November (and fingers-crossed, no longer). There are many four-letter words that I frequently use when discussing the pandemic. However, 2020 has produced a whole new pandemic dictionary of phrases encountered in everyday life – words we’d never heard of prior to 2020.
So, here’s your guide to PANDEMIC 2020 LINGO:
Airgasm
The clean, clear, purifying hit of oxygen you get when you remove your face mask. Future generations will never understand the full-body pleasure that comes from whipping off your mask after a gruelling trip around Sainsburys.
Background curation
The act of conducting Zoom calls in front of a background intended to be a projection of your personality. If it’s a bookshelf, you’re telling the world that you’re well-read. Kitchen? You love domesticity. Blank walls? You’ve got something to hide, you murderer.
Blursday
The inability to tell what day it is, because life has been one long unending grey smear since the middle of March. Sure, you’re reading this on a Friday, but are you sure it’s Friday?
Coronasomnia
The inability to sleep properly because of everything that’s going on in the world. Not to be confused with coronacolepsy, which is the inability to stay awake because of everything that’s going on in the world.
Covidiot
Instagram pictures where you group-hug your 20 best friends? Covidiot. Stand too close to me in the supermarket queue? Covidiot. Wear a mask over your mouth but not your nose? Covidiot. Claim that turmeric cures the virus on Facebook? Covidiot. Say anything I don’t like about Covid. Covidiot.
Doom-scrolling
Being unable to prise yourself away from a torrent of distressing news on your phone. ‘Where are the children?’ ‘Sorry, I started doom-scrolling an hour ago… Maybe they ran away?’
Infodemic
An epidemic of information. Do you have the test and trace app? The symptom tracker? Are you watching the briefings? What tier are you on? Do you know your R rate for your postcode? It’s all too much to take in…
Isobar
An isolation bar, aka a vast stock of alcohol to help you through the long days and weeks and months until this all goes away.
Maskne
A skin condition stemming from the wearing of face masks. The moist, damp conditions under the mask can bring out a spotty rash. The good news is that you can simply hide your maskne under a mask. The bad news is that this will make it worse.
Pasta magpie
If you’ve ever watched a pensioner sigh because you’ve cleared the shelf of penne, you’re a pasta magpie. If a checkout worker has tutted as they scan your 15th toilet roll multipack, you are also a pasta magpie.
Quarantini
A drink you make in your isobar. It might not follow a traditional cocktail recipe, but you’re making do with what you’ve got. ‘What are you drinking?’ ‘It’s like a sangria, but I’m using Chewits instead of oranges until the Ocado order gets here.’
Upperwear
The act of conducting a video call while half-dressed. The person on the end of the line thinks that you’re wearing a suit. However, from the waist down, you’re actually still in pyjamas.
Zumping
Dumping a person over Zoom. Obviously better than ghosting (not responding to any messages or calls), and infinitely preferable to dumping someone via text message. You’d think a zumping would be worse than in-person dumping, but what if you start to dump someone in person then cough, and accidentally give them Covid? Perhaps the zump is the way of the future.
