The week passes in a blur. You’ve washed your hands so much you’re now carrying around industrial-strength hand cream. But your anxiety is subsiding and soon you will be safe in your home. You check your desk for any forgotten essentials. "It’l only be for 2 weeks," you think, as you give your plants one last water. "They’ll survive."

You leave the office and step into the elevator with six other people, all talking excitedly. They seem scared. You hate to admit it, but you’re also scared. You’re supposed to meet your friends for pizza tonight. One last night out can’t hurt, right?