As the continued lockdown forces us to adapt to a new reality, thoughts have turned to those things we miss the most.
Inevitably, the greatest newsprint acreage is being devoted to that thing that we Irish hold so dear: boozing.
Nothing reveals this country's dysfunctional relationship with alco- hol quite like the cries of outrage that have accompanied the possible closure of many of our 7,000 pubs.
Obviously, a country as tiny as Ireland needs 7,000 pubs.
In one newspaper yesterday, the impact of the Covid-19 virus on the pub trade got two full pages, with no mention of its impact on hairdressers, beauty salons, cinemas or theatres.
The article mentioned the loss of revenue not only to publicans but to the taxman. Nowhere did it reference the huge savings the Government makes in not providing healthcare to the victims, both direct and indirect, of our drinking culture.
Elsewhere, a columnist warned about the Doomsday scenario facing our pub culture.
Variously describing it as the "heartbeat of our economy" and the "lifeblood of this country", the urgent need to re-open pubs was defended by the heart-wrenching example of an elderly neighbour who has been deprived of her occasional trip to the pub to catch up with friends over lunch and "a couple of glasses of wine".
As though this typifies the average pub-goer in this country, rather than the drunken bore, the pot-bellied dad avoiding his wife and kids or the boozed-up tourist getting in the mood for a kebab and a kerfuffle.
Elsewhere, a young mother offered her own thoughts about drinking during lockdown, which she now does every day.
She's obviously an intelligent woman, having enough sense to write that "I'm conscious too that, as a country, we have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, associating it with a cure for ills and the toast for every success".
But ultimately, she consoles herself with the favoured excuse of the spineless and the selfish, declaring that "perhaps I'm a product of that culture".
In other words, it's someone else's fault and I couldn't be bothered fighting it.
It seems astonishing we laugh at Donald Trump's idea that inject- ing disinfectant into your body may ward off the Covid-19 virus but still consider it reasonable to ask the question in the article's headline: "I'm drinking every day now. Is that really so bad?"
The answer, by the way, is yes.
So, the new reality post-coronavirus is that many pubs may never re-open.
We could be down to, say, 2,000 rather than 7,000 places to choose from in our uncontroll- able urge to damage our hearts, weaken our livers and bloat our bellies while increasing the chance of harming our relationships, getting in fights and being unable to function at work.
I can say only one thing: bring it on.