Five signs you've come down with a case of 'Zoomxhaustion'

It's interesting how quickly we can adjust to a new normal. Zoom, Houseparty, Hangouts, FaceTime, WhatsApp, Skype, Teams - whatever your poison, at the start of the coronavirus lockdown, five weeks ago, we all turned to video-calling platforms with the deluded wonder of a dog finding a stick in the woods: "Well, this is new and fun. I will never be bored or sad again."

But like dogs and sticks, the novelty couldn't last, and many of us now find ourselves coming down with "Zoomxhaustion" - which I don't think is a medical term but I'm not about to put a call into an NHS worker to confirm - and getting worse by the day.

Here are some warning signs...

Your social life is busier than ever
One of the most underrated aspects of "normal life" was being able to turn down social events whenever they sounded terrible: "Ah, sorry mate, I... er... I promised my father-in-law I'd paint his tool shed this weekend."

In the era of Zoom, et al, that get-out-of-jail card has been taken out of circulation.

Spy Online Zoom Party April 2020

You can't say you're going out; you can't say you need a night in.

The only two legitimate excuses are that you already have another Zoom call at that time, or that you have coronavirus. And so we must say yes, to everything, leaving us with busier social calendars during social distancing than we had before. Family catch-up on Monday. Drinks with school friends on Tuesday. A dinner party on Wednesday. Work karaoke Thursday... and then quizzes, quizzes, quizzes all weekend, baby. Except there's one question nobody will be able to answer: why are we doing this?

Talking over one another

Uh -Wh -No, you go fi -I was just going to s - Maybe we should put our hands up, like in primary school. Everyone can see your reactions. In a normal, face-to-face conversation between a large group, most people look at whoever is speaking. This allows us to react to things in relative privacy; roll your eyes and you'll likely get away with it. Not so on Zoom, where everybody is lined up like Blankety Blank panellists. There, your every reaction is being watched by an unknown number of people at any moment. It might even be recorded. So you need to pay attention. At all times. Either that, or fix an expression on your face that works just as well for tragic news as it does for a witty anecdote. Tricky.

You have to watch people eat
Virtual dinner parties are fine, I suppose, because everybody is eating and so time spent watching others doing so is minimal. But when somebody's meal is ready halfway through a conversation, or a takeaway arrives, and you suddenly find yourself watching your uncle make his way through a chicken bhuna, on microphone? That is another thing entirely.

You cannot leave
Getting into a Zoom call is easy. Then the awkwardness sets in. And, um, how do you get out? I am fortunate: my girlfriend and lockdown cellmate enjoys talking so much that on any call we make together I am able to slip away after about 47 seconds. People think I'm filling my drink. But, I've just... left the call. And nobody notices, least of all her. You might not be so fortunate, in which case the options are slim. You can make an excuse about dinner being ready, or having another call, or the cat catching fire.

Or remember we're all in this together, and they're probably all feeling the same. So just fake a power cut.