Tag: Awkward

I’m Stuck in Social-Distancing Prison

And time keeps dragging’ on.

It’s actually not been that bad. I can’t say that time’s moving at a normal rate, but it’s better than the never-ending month that was March.

All over the country, states are making the final decisions on the school year. Alabama was actually one of the first 6 states to make the decision, way back on March 26. Honestly, I had already announced that my children would not be going back this school year. I even went so far as to say I would be willing to go to jail–I don’t know about every state, but in Alabama, if your child has more than 7 unexcused absences in a semester, the parent can be charged with Truancy…and spend up to a year in prison.

Which makes me sound like a rebel. I was willing to do jail time to keep my kids safe.

Of course, then Justin and I were watching a show last night, and there was a scene in a prison bathroom–with 6 toilets placed in the center of a room like a porcelain flower. Justin said, “you couldn’t go to jail.” Nope. Nope nope nope. That is every single one of my nightmares.

I can’t even pee in front of Justin–I certainly wouldn’t be able to in front of strangers! He teases me because, after 15 years I still lock the bathroom every time I go in. But I am not about to have him, or anyone else, bust in on me. My sisters tease me–the man has seen me birth babies. He’s seen me be episiotomized…episiotomied…he watched a German doctor “take garden sheers” to my vagina, in order to extract Shea rapidly. He almost passed out, by the way (Rangers are only tough when they aren’t dealing with blood of their loved ones).

So, the truth of the matter is, I’m grateful schools are closed for the rest of the school year–I wouldn’t last a day in jail. At least this way, I only have to last 23 more days as School Teacher!

S-A-F-E-T-Y Safety Mask

You can mask if you want to…although these days, it’s mostly mandatory. This is my gift to you: The Rules of Proper Masking.

As I left the commissary this morning, after my emergency juice and ice cream run (First World Problems ain’t got nothin’ on me), I once again saw many people driving around, wearing masks. Folks, if you are the only person in your car, you do not need to wear a mask. Also, since we’re all social distancing, the only people in your vehicle should be the individuals you live with, therefore there is no reason to ever wear a mask while driving.

To make it easier for you to grasp, here are some silly comparisons:

via GIPHY

I like to go kayaking, so before I leave the house, I put my lifejacket on…and then put the kayak on the car and head to the lake.

I always wear my bike helmet while driving to the bike path.

I’ve never gone spelunking, but I’ve heard the best way to get ready is to put your harness on before you leave the house. Also, wear your repelling rope like a sash. It might make sitting in your car uncomfortable, but you can never be too prepared.

via GIPHY

Swim goggles should be put on your eyeballs before you even put your bathing suit on.

Ok, in all fairness to goggle wearers, Xander has been known to wear his goggles in the shower and the bath. And while running through the sprinkler. But hopefully before you hop into the driver’s seat of your empty car, you will pause and think, “wait…do I need to drive to the store with the mask on??” Nope–just…put it on when you get there.

For the record, I hate this so much.

Unless your face is cold? Then I guess do it up. You do you. Just….PLEASE, promise you won’t put nitrile gloves on at 8am when you leave the house, and go about your life as those they are creating a magic forcefield of safety around you. That is really not how gloves work, and when you go around touching everything with your glove hands, you make me cringe. Does your doctor wear the same pair of gloves all day? Does the food service employee make food, scrub the floor, and take your money without changing their gloves–ok…the answer to that one should be no. The answer to both of them should be no!!! If you don’t want the medic to stitch up my forehead and then take your temperature without changing their gloves, what makes you think tossing a pair of gloves on for the day will keep you protected from anything!?

What Was I Thinking?!

There are rules that need to be followed in times of Social-Distancing; as a professional social-distancer, I should know better than to break these rules.

I’m sure most people have seen the meme, reminding folks that, no matter how bored you get, do not cut your own bangs. If only that was what I did.

First, before we get to my latest Social-Distancing-SNAFU, let’s take a trip back in time. The year: 2005. My status: newly (secretly) married, unemployed, in a post-Hurricane Katrina southern town, where frequent newspaper articles discussed the resurgence of carpet-bagging. And there I was, a transplant from New York, desperate to steal jobs away from Georgians. I was broke, and jobless.

Wait–before I continue on–I just opened my blinds and discovered I have not one, but two 4ft tall DANDELIONS in my front garden bed. I guess maybe now would be the time to look up Dandelion Green recipes! These are desperate times (and this is the south).

Ok. Georgia. Late November 2005. I had just gotten off the phone with a friend in NY, who had just gotten a haircut by my hairdresser, and I was feeling a little…I guess FOMO? EOHC (That would be Envy of HairCuts…but it really doesn’t have the same ring)? I had already been cutting my own hair–it was short, and I would shave up the back and trim up the top. Fun. And. Spiky. In that moment, I decided I wanted to give a pixie-cut a try. So, clippers in hand, with the #6 guard, I made an absolutely illegal move–I shaved right down the middle of my head…and instantly shouted, “oh shit!” Too late to come back from this terrible decision, I finished the job, and texted Justin: I did something really bad.

There it is: proof that you shouldn’t make spur of the moment decisions in times of extreme social distancing. Don’t listen to the voice saying, “do it! This is a good idea! You definitely won’t regret this in 5 seconds!” That voice is a dirty liar who will cut and run the second you realize it’s a bad idea, and you will definitely regret it.

Fourteen years later, I found myself participating in once again, listening to bad ideas, instigated by the voice who is just trying to get me in trouble. “Ooh, you know what would be fun?! Let’s play around with your website, and push buttons and try things, and see what happens! Doesn’t that sound like fun?! At 9:45pm, when your husband is halfway through a 38hr shift, and you can’t sleep, because you don’t know how to adult when he isn’t home to tell you to go to bed, mistakes will be made.

…and, save. And….shit. It was gone. Well, it was there, but it was sad and broken, and kept telling me something went wrong. No kidding, something went wrong! You let me think I knew what I was doing!!! I tried and tried to think of how I could fix this: maybe if I just say, “please be there, please be there, please be there,” over and over again, it will self-correct? By 1am, I gave up. I started contemplating actual solutions that would lead to results.

This morning, I woke up with a possible solution. I didn’t love what I had to do next…

Let me just say, that, as an introvert who can lean toward the edge of recluse, I have some really amazing friends scattered around the world….and I might go years without talking to them.

That’s where I found myself this morning. I hate asking for help, when the person I’m asking is someone I haven’t spoken to in half a decade. It has nothing to do with not wanting to reach out–it just feels…selfish. “Hey, I know it’s been 5 years, and how are you, and also, please help me fix my foolish blunder.”

Friendship is a magical thing. Two hours later, with a minimal amount of help from me:
“How do you normally sign in?”
“I don’t know. I click the link and I’m there.”
He saved my life…or at least my website. We both can appreciate a healthy amount of social distancing–introverts of the world, unite. Just–stay on your own side.
“THANK YOU again for saving my blog. Let’s not wait 5 years for another technical emergency, to get back in contact.”
“Technical emergency IN A PANDEMIC! Hopefully, those two will never coincide again.”

Truth be told, one lead to the other. Pompous Pandemic Pluck…and that dirty voice that needs to stop giving me bad advice!

Tom wants to help you too! I mean, he didn’t say that, really. But, I’m a parent. And I know some parents. And this could come in handy, while we’re all keeping our distance, and slowly losing our minds. Just like that, my friend is now helping you! Promoting Pandemic…Philanthropy?

Come Together, Right Now, Over Covid-19

These are strange times, indeed. The uncertainty of it all is what makes it seem so…overwhelming? Scary? A third option?

Sunday night I realized that I had better message my PCM and let her know I was getting close to running out of my blood pressure double cocktail. I also asked that, in light of the extra safety measures put in place at the hospital, could they please (please) send my prescriptions to either the refill pharmacy, or any pharmacy that doesn’t require me to go to large military hospital. When I received my notification phone call, the nurse (who also took my stitches out of my forehead a year ago–thanks Mr E) thanked me for trying to be proactive, but they were not allowed to send prescriptions anywhere. I tried, and I was unsuccessful.

Today I decided that the longer I put it off, the worse it would be. After asking Justin if there was any way I could drop our maybe-not-so-tiny-anymore humans off to him (and learning that, no, he was still somewhere in the woods, in Georgia, playing dress up with face-paint and all), I did some searching, took a deep breath and accepted that my kids were old enough to be left alone (in Alabama, as soon as you can say “y’all,” you’re old enough; the army says 9-12 year olds can be home alone for up to 2 hours). I set out the rules–do not go outside, and no shenanigans. Xander was even able to repeat them back to me (which you might think is a weird thing to say about a 9 year old, but this is the same kid that usually, when asked to repeat back what we said to him, replies with, “I don’t know…words??”).

I would share a photo of the pre-hospital-entry portion of this adventure, but it’s probably not allowed…or it’s probably something I don’t want to risk getting in trouble for. I really just don’t like to get in trouble. Sammi Steeves, Rule Follower!

I followed the signs pointing the way, and reminding me that if I had a cough, fever, or had been out of the country or in contact with a sick human, I would not be allowed access to the hospital. I’m not really sure how to feel about that final statement. If hospitals are for sick people, and they aren’t allowing the sick people in, where are they going? I hope I just misread the signs, or skipped a section. I hope?

So far, nothing new or different has happened, other than I was able to find parking on the first level of the parking garage! I locate a table saying “Pharmacy Check-In,” and head over, ID card in hand. I’m all smiles and sunshine, because I know this is a weird time, and no one wants to be the guy out front. After asking the same questions listed on the multiple signs I passed on my 5oft walk from the parking garage to the table, he asks, “would you like to come back at 1100? Or 1600? To pick up your prescriptions car-side?” Goodbye smile; hello angry eyes.

“Are you serious? I called and messaged my provider, and asked if there was any way I could get my prescriptions without entering the hospital. And now, after driving 30 minutes to get here, you’re telling me I have to come back at either 11 or 4?!” He said I could still pick them up if I wanted to take my chances going into the hospital. No, buddy, I don’t want to go into the hospital. But I also don’t want to drive home, just so I can turn around an come back in an hour.

I make my way to the entrance. Where I am stopped by another soldier. “Ma’am, the main hospital entrance is closed.” I do a full turn, and say, “so, how am I supposed to get to the pharmacy?” Oh! I see–through the giant army tent tunnel set up. I wash my hands at the hand washing station, say hello to the CPT across from me, and then we make our way toward the tent–where I managed to get yelled at for not leaving 6 feet between me and the CPT. I’m being yelled at by a soldier standing 2 feet from me: “Ma’am! You need to maintain 6ft between you and the person in front of you!” I might have burst out laughing.

Once inside the Tent of Uncertainty, a medic asked me the same questions I had already been asked–twice. I asked him if he was having fun: “well, I’m standing outside in an army tent, taking temperatures.” As he was taking my temperature he said, “honestly, my usual job is way more stressful.” Well, now I want details.

But there’s no time for details, because I now have a fancy green wristband stamped 18March2020, and I get to finish my walk of awkwardness through the tent. Which was surprisingly spacious on the inside.

Every other seat in the waiting area has a SOCIAL DISTANCING DO NOT USE sign taped to it…but of course the seats are back-to-back, so I could just lean over and rest my head on the person behind me, if anyone chose to sit there. Normally the wait can be hours, but I had ticket 135, and they were on 127. This never happens!

Everyone is keeping their distance and keeping to themselves. And then I hear, “excuse me? Can you help me?” Behind me is standing a little Ajumma. “I don’t know what I am doing. My husband always does this for me, and I’ve never picked up my prescriptions before! Can you help me?” Only if you can give me your recipe for kimchi.

I walked her through it. “Do you have your ID? Scan this barcode, not other one. Is that your information on the screen? Touch the confirm button.” Of course the next step could be confusing for anyone, because you have to choose your category. It’s the Choose Your Own Adventure portion of all prescription pickups. Asking a question, Soldier in Uniform, Same-day surgery, 3 other weirdly-worded categories that I know probably pertain to no one, and finally, All other beneficiaries. I told her that was her category. Then, being that she’s Korean and adorable, she thanked me 572 times, and started to walk away. “Ma’am! Don’t forget to take your number!”

“Now serving B128,” and Ajumma hops up and says, “oh, that’s me! That’s my number!” I asked if I could check her paper, and told her she was one-thirty-eight, and they had called 128.

I don’t know why her husband was unable to come with her today, but I can guess it had something to do with his health. Did I have to break the 6 foot spacing rule in order to assist her? You bet I did. Did she get to go home and tell her husband she was able to fill her prescriptions without his assistance? Probably! Did I get her to write down all of her Korean recipes? No! I should’ve held her number hostage until she told me the secret to making perfect dumplings!

In the end, I made it home in less than 2 hours. My children had stayed inside, and hadn’t gotten caught up in any shenanigans. So we all got in the car and went grocery shopping…which was much less frenzy-filled than I expected it to be!

While My Ears Start to Bleed

I’m currently sitting at Honda, waiting for my van to be serviced. The waiting room is an ADD sufferer’s nightmare.

Ahead of me, there’s a tv airing CNN. I am trying so hard to follow the impeachment debate. Behind me is a second tv, where some kind of game show is playing. To my right is the dealership, playing Christmas music. All three are equally loud…or quiet. They are competing for my attention, and at this point, I’m the only one losing.

Add to this aural nightmare, the random persons around me choosing to listen to one YouTube video or another. I just heard “ok, I’m going to put potato chips in my vacuum bag.” Now I’m mildly frustrated and confused. Who in the world just puts potato chips in their vacuum?? Potato chips are for eating. And who are the people that are clicking through videos and stopping to view such atrocities (in this case, it seems to be a 3 year old. Whatever makes you happy, kiddo).

I simply don’t understand what causes people to feel entitled to making their presence be audibly known. Maybe it’s because I was raised by a Ballschmieder, with the understanding that in public, you remain quiet. Perhaps it’s my introverted desire to disappear into the background and remain unnoticed. I will never be the person who puts my phone on speaker in public. I will most likely not even answer my phone if I am in public (I probably won’t answer my phone even if I am alone, because I’m not a fan; I never have been).

Back to the initial earsore. I envy the individual who can sit with multiple distractions around them and focus on one item. I hear them all at once, and it ends up a jumbled, “air freshener leaves us with a blanket denial,” and I’m left having to decide if febreeze is in denial, or if it’s the Republicans. Give me closed captioning so I can turn my ears off and read what I want to be hearing!