Tuesday, October 04, 2022

Born to Social Distance

Long before the COVID-19 pandemic, I was getting ready to practice social isolation. I’ve always had an aversion to crowded spaces, and I became practiced in how avoid touching door knobs and handles. This guided me in my prescient preparations.

1. Haircuts. I’ve been cutting my own hair for a few years. I’ve always disliked anyone pampering me, so visiting a barbershop or hair salon every month was uncomfortable. Besides, you’re also expected to make small talk with the groomer. And you either have to call to make an appointment, or you have to sit and wait – both of which are intolerable. Buying the electric shaver and trim kit was a great decision. And it paid for itself within eight months.

2. Paper products. Besides being socially awkward (some might say autistic) I am a cheapskate. I refuse to pay more for something than I need to. So when I buy toilet paper, I wait for the 9- or 12-pack of mega rolls to go on sale and then I buy one. It just so happened that right before all the toilet paper disappeared from the stores in my neighborhood, I bought a “12 pack = 48 rolls”. My wife and I had to conserve TP, but this bulk supply lasted more than eight weeks, and we never actually ran out. Nevertheless, I decided to see what it would be like to have no toilet paper. I found that paper towels felt just fine “down there.” Of course I was careful to not flush the wipe. The other paper product Armageddon that I survived was the other TP shortage: Tissue Paper. No tissues? No matter – I had decided to go cold turkey months ago. I switched to using cotton handkerchiefs. I did this more to lower my footprint than anything else. And napkins? Don’t make me laugh – they’re for slobs and sissies.

3. Shopping. I never go shopping. I go “buying.” I decide that I need something, so I go and buy it. I shop online whenever I can because I can convert credit card rewards into gift certificates that can be redeemed online. The only Brick and Mortar stores I bother with are the supermarket, drug store and Walmart. Occasionally I go to a local hardware store if I’m not sure what I need. Fortunately, all four of these types of stores were designated essential, so I almost didn’t have to change my routine of running errands. The one change I did have to make was to eliminate the weekly trips to the library.

4. Masks. Last year my breathing got progressively more difficult. So I decided that I would use the best possible mask while scooping the dusty litterboxes. In late November (or early December) I bought a two-pack of 3M N95 particulate filter masks. This N95 mask is fantastic. It’s also effective protection against airborne viruses like coronavirus. Cheap surgical masks and homemade masks that the CDC mandates only cut down on the amount of virus you emit; they don’t protect you well from others. Masks are tricky, though, and there’s a special protocol for donning them and removing them. And they’re not meant to be reused. So I use my N95 mask only at home during dusty projects. If I were to wear it out in public, I’d be afraid of getting it contaminated with the virus. So when I go out in public, I wear a cheap surgical mask, which I don’t mind throwing away if I need to.

5. Dentists, etc. All those routine checkups we’re supposed to get have been put on hold indefinitely. That includes the semi-annual dental checkup. I haven’t been to the dentist in a few years, and even when I went annually, there was no need for any work except for a cleaning. Colonoscopies, apparently, are another sham. Eye exams, on the other hand, I would try to maintain.