The language of 2020!

It's the last day of the year and time for a nostalgic look back on the language of 2020 - the year of the beast!

Yes, the beast - the CORONOVIRUS / COVID / PLAGUE 4 / BLACK DEATH 2 beast. The beast which dominated our language for the entire year. It's the year when we all went viral, whether we liked it or not.

It first raises its ugly head in far-off Wuhan in China sometime last December - the news of its birth ranking only as fifth spot on the 10 o'clock news. We all think: those poor Chinese dropping like flies after eating infected bats and those cute pangolins. Oh dear. How terrible. But at least it's just a local outbreak. Like flu with attitude, we are told.

It rapidly becomes a big outbreak, of course, followed by a national epidemic. Then someone at the WHO coins the apocalyptic word pandemic and we all start sitting up and taking notice. And naturally, it soon reaches our shores and people here start dropping like flies even though they haven't tucked into bats or chewed on a pangolin. It's become flu with added hidden extras now.

Boris wades in quickly with flag held high in February demanding robust action to stop the 'corona-coaster'. He invents home-schooling and every family in the land starts to feel the real terror - kids at home 24/7. Matt Hancock reassures a shaken nation that sticking-plaster solutions won't help and the answer is in solid test-and-trace stuff and that following the science will keep us safe. We are told that our washing hands every moment of the day and keeping our distance will stop the virus spreading. Oh dear, well that worked, didn't it?

Then comes social distancing - the best oxymoron I have ever heard. Surely 'anti-social distancing' is more accurate? But social sounds warm and friendly, so that's OK. Professor Witty appears on our tellies in late March - a scary man who looks uncannily like the virus itself. He unveils death spreadsheets every day with a worrying calmness and tells us that the war on the virus has only just begun. The British public then reacts accordingly - with logic, sense and reason and starts its own little war - over toilet rolls and spaghetti in supermarket aisles, because a combination of both will act as an instant vaccine to the beast.

April is full of flattening-the-curve, realising that you are not 'essential' in the great scheme of things and that science is about to break the chain-of-transmission. Boris throws pithy phrases out like game-changer, blanket lockdowns and giving the virus a short, sharp shock, while across the ocean and the Donald re-christens it as the 'Cheena-virus' and refuses to do anything about it.

May then rolls in and we were introduced to a new word - the 'furlough', and things dive to a new low as most of us realise that we are not eligible for that either. May also produces the longest and most impressive word of the pandemic so far - 'asymptomatic'. Still not too sure what it means exactly but I am stubbornly trying to fit it into my online Scrabble games, which is virtually impossible... so I'm kicking the can down the road on that one.

June sees Boris getting all cuddly with the nation. Suddenly he wants to reach out and embrace the NHS and enfold key workers in his expansive arms. Which is not a bad thing as we stand and clap them on our doorsteps... until we all get bored of that. Matt Hancock then starts talking about a pragmatic approach to 'superspreaders' - a challenger for the longest word of the pandemic. He even coins the oxymoronic expression: 'expansive reductions' when explaining the new laws on family gatherings nationwide.

And so we reach July and the first talk of vaccination-platforms which will recalibrate the government's approach. Oh, and there is a lot more kicking cans down this never ending road. August and it is full-steam ahead with self-isolation again (sorry, missed that earlier) and even 'pandemic-fatigue' which causes people to go outside and be naughty in the sunshine. September sees the introduction of a new word to combat the virus - the bubble. We have family bubbles, school bubbles, friends and partners' bubbles - it is pretty much a bubble bath for a month.

October crackles in and Boris adopts a new approach - electricity! Circuit-breakers are to be used up and down the land to prevent transmission, 'plug' the gaps and prevent more 'shocks'. STOP! (Sorry about that - getting carried away). As if that isn't bad enough, November has us all being prepared for a 'modest bubble over Christmas' as the government starts to get really excited over the progress of loads of vaccines. We are told that Boris is keeping lots of irons in his fire and that although the Oxford vaccine is only 70% effective it is still pretty good (and allocated to all Labour voters for the summer of 2022). We are also introduced to a new localised lockdown system which confuses everyone and tiers become tears very quickly.

And finally, we reach December and, after Boris has cancelled Christmas (booooo), we have just one lovely new catchphrase to add to the list, as the country readies itself for more mass rule-breaking on New Year's Eve. Apparently, (drum roll) COVID LOVES A PARTY! Well, great. I'm delighted that at least it's having a bit of fun as the year ends.

Heaven knows what 2021 will bring - probably a new word to wow over and we'll all have an ASYMPTOVACCINATORIALLERGIC reaction to everything above!