How to measure pandemic? My metrics are two and 32. And I’m lucky.

The macro data are important. But like counting leaves, the number of recorded positives, the tally of corpses, the trillions Congress has appropriated compound into incomprehension. They don’t speak of me or for me.

The ultimate metric is to have lost someone or been sick. Yet death and illness are far from the only grim measures. Count lost jobs and businesses among the personal metrics for many, trauma from fear and uncertainty for others.

Still, many have been more inconvenienced than harmed. A colleague last week shared her metric: a sheet of paper with daily tick marks in black (for didn’t leave the driveway) and red (trips to pharmacy, grocery story or take-out restaurant), with dots on days she changed toilet paper.

I’m fortunate. Two people I know, both in Shreveport, have survived Corvid-19, one with difficulty. And I’ve been sheltered at home long enough now to have gone through a 32-ounce bag of Community Coffee, dark roast.

Two and 32. My not-so-grim metrics.

So, yes. Lucky.