It is March 26, 2020, and COVID-19 is raging around the world. I live in Western Canada. We have cases in this area, but it is nowhere near the insane explosion of illness in China, Italy, or NYC. Not yet anyway.
I don’t care much for myself, I never really have. I abuse my body with pills and smoke. I used to let men do what they wished because who was I to deny them their desires? I am better on that front now that I am in a healthy relationship. But still, I am not worried for myself. I’d actually love to get sick, I’d get to feel the sympathy of others, whether fake or not. I’d get to take time off work and still get paid. Oh look, my priviledge is showing. I’d get to say, ‘I had it.’ Or, if I die, well even better.
I am being careful though, because I know there are people out there who don’t want this particular virus attacking their body. I use hand sanitizer, wash my hands, try to keep 6 feet between myself and others. I only go out for work, which at this time is unavoidable. I open doors and press elevator buttons with my sleeve.
I’ll leave it at that for now.
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