What to do next



So.
The situation is, I agree, desperate. But fortunately I know the proper way to proceed. That is why I am giving you these instructions. They will save your life. First, persuade yourself that the situation is not desperate (my instructions will save your life only if you have not already hopelessly compromised it by listening to the instructions of others, or to the whispers of your heart, which is in itself suspect, in that is has been taught how to behave – how to whisper even – by the very culture that has produced the desperate situation).
First, wear that mouth cap. If you don't have a mouth cap, go make one yourself. Be creative. Use any and all materials that you can find in and around your house. Dental dams, baseball caps, etcetera. If you are an aesthetic: it's not a good time to be an aesthetic. Save your aesthetics for another era. Breathing beats art, if you want to know my opinion.
Next: ear plugs. Self-explanatory. Ear plugs are ideal if you need to zone out the chatter and noise of your loved ones.
Optional: tampons up your nose. (Or, if you prefer, tape recorders up your brother's nose.) This has the clear advantage of cancelling out your smell, which can be a good thing if your fellow residents are smelly, but it can also be a bad thing. For instance, when you forgot to turn off the gas and are simultaneously trying to light a candle (here's my advice: skip the candles. Save your candles for black outs).
Finally, go wear that eye mask that you bought on the internet ages ago when it looked like a sensible thing to buy (it wasn't and you forgot about it). Take it out of that drawer filled with stuff. Lie on your back and put it on.
Now is the time to let the time do its work.
Repeat after me, mentally: I am the virus. I am the virus. I am the virus.
Silence and darkness and clean air will be the answer to all your questions.