I have a mask, and I’m not afraid to use it.

I was never a germ-a-phobe until I began spending a lot of time with a dear, dear friend who got her bachelor’s and master’s in biology.  Actually, that’s not entirely true, let me try again.  I became slightly more aware of germs when I began spending a lot of time with a dear, dear friend who got her bachelor’s and master’s in biology.  I became somewhat obsessively afraid of germs when I started to sing more seriously in competitions and auditions.

There is a bottle of hand sanitizer in my car, and I also store a travel-sized one in my purse.  Per the advice of my dear biology-researching, DNA/protein-innovating friend, a Master of Science, I try not to touch my eyes or my nose.  I hate handling cash, and I look at door handles with disgust.

How serious am I about keeping germs out?  During my six-week stretch of summer and graduate program auditions, I put Neosporin around my nostrils and wore a Grey’s Anatomy-style mask on every airplane.  A few people gave me strange looks, but I simply smiled with my eyes and stared right back at them.  My roommate assured me she always saw at least one person on each flight wearing a mask (she travels a little more frequently).  I had an inkling she was trying to make me feel better about having bought disposable surgical masks in bulk … because I have never seen anyone with a mask.  She’s a good friend!

My poor boyfriend; every sneeze is met with narrowed eyes and a suspicious, “Are you getting sick?”

My poor coworkers; I cringe at each cough and think about bringing a mask to work.  It hasn’t come to this (yet), but the hand sanitizer and Neosporin are sitting on my desk.

I drink Emergen-C and/or Airborne almost every day.  My diet includes a multi-vitamin, calcium, fiber, and omega-3 supplements (in the form of delicious gummy candies).  I also take a wellness formula to give my immune system an extra boost.  I use a netipot to rinse out my sinuses, and I recently bought an air purifier.

Germs, in case you didn’t get the memo: stay away. No, we can’t be friends and you can’t come over anymore.

Stoically,

Joyce

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