We're creatures of habit, so it played like most mornings of late.

First, the foggy 5am misgiving: "That sniffle, am I going to die?" Rational brain: "No, you're not, drama queen. You live in the hayfever hot zone, remember. Get up, make me some coffee."

At first light, Jack's walk. He's 15, arthritic, a big sooky golden retriever. His morning walk is sacred. Our time together more precious than money.

We hear an owl off in the distance and another moment of melancholy arrives. I'll miss these birds when I'm gone. I'll miss these trees. But they won't miss me. Had you asked me last June, when the clock ticked over the big 60, I wouldn't have given a second's thought to my mortality. I surf, ride motorcycles, fly drones, paddle kayaks, take photos, travel. Too much life to think about death.

These days, it's a constant companion. Why? I'm in that age group where your chances of succumbing to this virus are reportedly on the upswing. It was a year ago, almost to the day, when I contracted a flu that hit me for six. I fear COVID-19 might knock me clean into the stands.

These morning musings are pushed aside by the routine I insist on maintaining. Breakfast, shower, choose a work outfit. Check emails. Get the latest on the pandemic - oh look, Argentina's closed its borders so there goes the April holiday.

Then it's time to start the day. Virtually. The newsroom assembles via Google. We're not in the same room but it feels as if we are. Like the opening titles to The Brady Bunch, our faces appear on the screen for our morning news conference. We map out the day. We get on with it.

Lunchtime arrives but it's different. No idle walk around to buy unhealthy food. No, it's an opportunity to run the John Deere over the front lawn. The virus might haunt me but I won't allow the grass to as well.

I hook into Facebook Live broadcasts of the NSW Premier and federal health minister. Judging by the comments, no one is listening. The vast majority call for the schools to be closed down. Now. I can't help wondering if the poor teachers are being used as quarantine human shields.

The day sees the term "herd immunity" bandied about. It sounds like some horrible invention of the Third Reich. Survival of the fittest, the youngest, the most affluent. My money is on it going out of vogue as quickly as it turned up on the pandemic radar.

Day one draws to a close. It's one of those lovely autumn afternoons. Clear blue skies, the faintest breeze. Working from home, I can step out whenever I please. I've met my step, movement and kilojoule targets early, my Apple Watch tells me. And we've all got through the work at warp speed.

So far, so good.

How are dealing with the new reality? Shoot me an email and be part of the pandemic diary. John.hanscombe@austcommunity,com.au