To plan, or not to plan, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of an outrageous virus,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of boredom,
And by opposing end them with a calendar?
To die, to plan no more; to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand unnatural shocks
of another lockdown? ‘Tis a resignation
Devoutly to be avoided. To plan, to dream,
To dream, perchance to Teach; aye, there’s the joy,
For in that burst of life, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal fear,
Must give us play, motion and clowns’ love.
William G. Shakespeare