I left my apartment today, the first time in four days. I had an appointment with my therapist, which is one of the best reasons to leave your apartment when you’ve been hiding from a virus-stricken world and you’re all stocked up on anxiety. (To be fair to myself, anyone who isn’t even a little scared and upset about things right now is either an enlightened Zen monk or someone stupid enough to help this virus spread by not taking the right precautions.)
My therapist hasn’t gotten the tech set up for teleconferencing yet, so it was an in-person visit. Which was fine by me because I really did need to get out in the world. My therapist and I generally sit six feet apart anyway. When I got to her office for the appointment, she explained how the safety protocols would work. I was her first appointment, so no one else had been there and everything had been wiped down with disinfectant. When the appointment was over, she would lead me out, wiping the door handles down so I wouldn’t have to touch anything. THESE ARE VERY STRANGE TIMES WE ARE LIVING IN.
As she led me out of the building, a man and woman were standing just outside the front door. My therapist asked, “Could you both please step at least six feet away from the door? Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” the man said while stepping back, “I worked at Golden Corral. I’m immune to everything now.”
“Hey, I worked at a Golden Corral when I was in college!” I said.
He grinned at me. “Then you’re immune, too, brother.”
Laughing together is what will get us through all of this. Also, compassion and sharing. And washing our hands as much as possible. And social distancing.