Should we plod on or panic in the face of the new omicron variant?

Well this is a bit of a kick in the teeth, isn’t it? Just when you get your booster jab and start to relax about mixing and mingling, along comes a potentially more lethal, vaccine-evading new Covid virus variant, aka “omicron”, which sounds like a rubbish IT company. One of those depressing places with its headquarters off a motorway roundabout, a big ugly faceless building where no one can find the door. Ugh.

I was up north when my phone alerted me to this latest Covid strain and my first reaction was to make a weak Twitter joke, likening this omicron variant to a new flavour of popcorn that nobody wants or needs. “Chocolate and wasabi, anyone?” Surely the original variety was sufficient?

As information about the new mutation gathered, so did the storm clouds on the northwest coast, and by the time I left my gig in Liverpool on Friday night, storm Arwen had wreaked havoc across the region and the world already looked like it was on the brink of extinction. The wind howled, bins and traffic cones were flying all over the place, women in high heels clung to lampposts, wishing they’d worn something more sensible, and the roads out of the city were strewn with fallen trees.

If I’m honest, it felt like an awful portent, but then sometimes having an imagination and watching too much telly can be a bad thing. “So this is what the end looks like,” I thought, waiting for something terrible to happen as we drove through the night, unable to unclench my jaw until I got safely indoors and had a hot shower and a cold glass of wine.

As a natural catastrophist, I find it hard not to let my thoughts stray into very dark territory, but equally, as someone brought up by a pair of northern stoics, my learned coping mechanism is to “get on with it”. Before dementia knocked my mother for six, I swear that if the world were coming to an end, she would still make soup and put a wash on.

And so like millions of others, I fluctuate between wanting to give up and disappear under the duvet for a good cry, and trying to get a plumber to see to my blocked sink.

Like everyone else, I’ve got plans for December. With my tour on a Christmas break until January, I have people to see, places to go, presents to buy and roots to get bleached. Life goes on, but some of us can’t help feeling that we’re bracing ourselves for the worst, and I have to admit, the thought of going back to the bad old days of the DIY kitchen salon and ending up with that bright yellow mullet again makes me shudder.

There is a weird sense of deja vu here, and the pessimist in me can’t help wondering how many days we have left until we go back into full lockdown. I’m also really worried about the nation’s psyche. So many of us have only just managed to get back on our feet. How much more can people take before the screaming starts?

Apparently even Chris Witty is worried about whether people would comply with yet another lockdown and I don’t blame him, because I’m not sure everyone will. Being a snivelling coward who believes in authority, I will do whatever I’m told, but judging by the reactions on social media, lots of people won’t.

Just as some folk refused the call of the bomb shelter siren, preferring to taking their chances out on the streets during the Second World War, there will be people this Christmas who won’t toe the line again.

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This is the horrible waiting time, the lull between knowing that something bad could be about to happen, while having no clue yet as to how grim it might get.

Some people, those with weakened immune systems and other health issues, may have already decided to go back into a voluntary lockdown, and who can blame them? Until we know what we’re dealing with, if you’re vulnerable why not err on the side of caution? Especially when Covid precautions have more or less dwindled to zero in many public spaces, with some treating mask wearing as completely arbitrary and social distancing as a thing of the past.

Others will be vaguely prepping, in the way you do when you’re going on holiday in a few weeks time, only instead of digging out the sunscreen and swimming costumes, they are ordering new jigsaw puzzles, dusting down that banana bread recipe and upgrading their Zoom account, while trying not to panic.

Meanwhile, in the background, there are conflicting views from scientists about how worried we should be, with some being fairly blasé and others sounding alarm bells. And so, for now, we get on with our lives, unsure as to whether we are fiddling while Rome burns and whether this will be yet another Christmas that gets cancelled.