I wasn’t taking this COVID-19 thing seriously for a long time. Conflicting reports kind of gathered together to make for an unconvincing disaster. Americans have a tendency to buy out all the toilet paper at the drop of a hat, and I had no reason to think that this was any different. I’m a (kind of) healthy person, and I have a really solid immune system. I don’t often get sick, and if I do, it’s for maybe a day.
And then something changed, and I’m not sure what. Maybe it was my day job going all telework. Maybe it was hearing about how much damage this disease was causing to the survivors. This isn’t just the flu (for which I vaccinate every fall).
But even then, what got me to start diligently washing my hands and stop going to coffee shops and stores (when I don’t have to go) was Nicole’s fear of it. We’re both gallows humor people, and we make constant jokes about dying from coronavirus, but in the jokes there is serious concern. So basically, I’m not worried about getting COVID-19, but I’m terrified of giving it to Nicole.
When this is all over, we’re going to take stock of what we did right and wrong, and I want to go to sleep knowing I did everything right. And when this is all over, it’s going to be tough to get used to wearing pants again.