I felt I needed a part 2 post, lest you believe I’m viewing COVID through rose colored glasses. Rest assured, I’m not. Working in a supporting role in healthcare is akin to front row seats to the destruction that COVID is inflicting on people of all ages. I don’t think you can bear witness to this and come out on the other side without some collateral damage.
COVID has made me a little crazier than I already am. Not too crazy, but I’ve made decisions that signal cuckoo. For example, I’ve assembled a small stock pile of masks and gloves. The gloves are the yellow Playtex kind. I haven’t worn them – yet. But I’m prepared should the need arise.
When we arrived in Virginia we began unpacking and one day we unpacked the mother load! TOILET PAPER! This was great because toilet paper was in as short supply in Virginia as we’d left it in Massachusetts. I began to grow irrationally angry that I could not acquire toilet paper or paper towels (I’m still pissed about Clorox wipes so let’s not even go there). So one day, it occurred to me that I could likely acquire toilet paper and paper towels from an office supply store. And, since my home had immediately morphed into an office of 2, I was like, “I’m getting some supplies for the office!” Success! Although delayed, my shipment of coveted paper towels and toilet paper eventually arrived on our doorstep. 80 rolls of toilet paper. 30 rolls of paper towels. If you’re thinking that I’m part of the problem, you may be right. But what I’ve come to realize is that it's not about the toilet paper. I’m sure you realize this too. It’s about the illusion of control when things feel out of control. With the right amount of toilet paper, and I don’t know what the right amount is but I am sure it’s much less than 80 rolls… BUT! (Butt?) with the right amount, you can spin the roll as if you’re on the Wheel of Fortune. Big money! Big money! With nary a concern about, “What if I run out? What if I cannot wipe my bum with ease? And then that leads to swamp butt?!”
When the 80 rolls of toilet paper arrived, Andrea bent over the box and observed that the toilet paper was made by blind people. The box proclaimed this to be the case. Honestly, we don’t care who made it but we’re very grateful to them. The texture of this toilet paper is very…. Papery. No one's getting swamp butt over here!
I’ve pursued Clorox wipes with the same vigor. I know – I can make them. I don’t want to make them – I want the Clorox Man to make them for me. Despite my dogged pursuit, I’ve come up empty. Sure – there have been a few close calls, a few sightings online. One place turned out to be a janitorial supply company that had the wipes but required a minimum purchase of $1,000 worth of products. That’s where I drew the line (but let me know if you want in on some janitorial supplies).
I read an article about a doctor who is convinced he got COVID through his eye. I feel he’s onto something so I’ve decided to wear fake classes in public to keep COVID cooties out. This idea is not at all routed in science, but I’m clinging to it anyway. It’s as if I’m Trump but with better hair. And manners. I’ve ordered frames with clear lenses. See? Clear. Most definitely not rose colored.
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