Protection?

face masks on blue background

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Anyone tired of this face condom thing yet?

Scoff? That’s not what it is…you say…

If I understand the science (that is still all over the place on actual effectiveness) I am being told, then that’s exactly what wearing a mask essentially is – a face condom.

So, according to widely spread, not supportable, social media statistics, if two people wear masks there is a 1.5% chance of a healthy person contracting Covid-19 from a sick person. Now, the CDC won’t confirm those numbers because they have no idea of the accuracy, but the claim is always followed up with “it’s just good to be safe and watch out for others.”

OK, so the CDC won’t give stats on this particular issue.

Interestingly, they also don’t give stats (at least I can’t find any) on their website about the effectiveness of condom use. It can be found in other places though. 98% is the number.

That means (roughly) that condoms and masks work (mostly) with the same effectiveness (if you believe the mainstream narrative) from keeping someone from getting something they don’t want.

Thus, 2020 is the Year of the Face Condom.

You’re welcome.

 

New normal

unrecognizable person in protective clothes walking little dog during coronavirus

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Anyone else tired of hearing this?

Sorry, but I am getting the idea that the “new normal” is going to stick in one way or another. Some of what we are seeing isn’t going to go away, and I don’t like the trends I am seeing.

Face Masks

So, it was first recommended that we not wear them in public. Then it was recommended and even “required.” Now, we are seeing businesses implementing policies, and even counties strongly suggesting that face masks be worn in public.

Are we going to do this all the time now? Flu season? Wear a mask. Allergies? Wear a mask. Cold? Wear a mask.

Who’s to say that cough is any different than the other cough? When or how are we going to know? Who makes the determination for when we should or should? Why not just wear them all the time so we make sure we’re safe under all circumstances?

Perhaps we should just make hazmat suits more fashionable and then we wouldn’t have to worry about anything when we leave home.

The future doesn’t look bright, folks…

In the mirror

brass framed wall mirror

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Every stand in front of the mirror and wonder, “What happened?”

I mean, this is starting to become a regular occurrence for me. So, I wonder if others have a similar experience any time they are in front of a mirror.

I am not a good judge of myself, at least when it comes to appearance. I’ll say that right off the top. I am hard on myself. But, to be honest, I haven’t ever though that I fall in the “attractive” category. “OK” at best, but probably mostly “Fair” would be safe.

Anyway, the bathroom is becoming my enemy. Well, any place that has a mirror, but mostly the bathroom. Or, you could probably include any picture of me. Those suck too, but that’s a whole other story.

So, morning and night starts and ends in the bathroom for me. I have to “put in my eyes,” as I like to say it, in the morning and “take out my eyes” at night. Blind as a bat…but that too is a post for another day.

I watch my body change. I watch my face change. I watch what “used to be” become my “new normal” and I just wonder, “What the hell happened?” My face could scare small children (and likely does…though it doesn’t crack the mirror so maybe it isn’t that bad…) and my body could be used as a boat anchor, only I probably would still float too well. Aches appear from nowhere. Creaks and pops from the joints that used to be flexible and nimble. Bumps, lines, and spots appear on my face as though I am trying to win a topographical map contest. I stare at it and it stares back. Only the gaze that comes back is different than the one previously.

Age. Is. Unkind. It can’t be denied and it can’t be avoided. I guess there is some control over how it happens and how gracefully you can handle it, but in the end the end still comes.

Some days though, I can’t help but dislike what I see.

 

It cuts not so deep

straight razor kit

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The morning ritual of shaving (something my face can’t handle on a daily basis so I alternate) has got to be one of the worst forms of torture. Can I just stop hair growth on my face?

For a tiny little razor, it sure makes my face bleed red. How is that possible?

The blades are minuscule, and for the most part they lay flat on my face. I try to keep the angle correct, yet somehow I end up with red spots and scrapes and my face looks like I was attacked by a lawnmower. Those little cuts are just enough to be annoying but not deep enough to be a medical emergency.

Ugh, I hate it. And yet, I don’t really have an alternative. So, the torture continues…every other day.

Extreme dislike – Morning Routine

straight razor kit

Photo by Josh Sorenson on Pexels.com

You know how you have that one thing that you really just don’t like doing? Do you wish there was a permanent solution so you didn’t have to do it? Yeah, me too.

In this case I am talking about – SHAVING!

Ugh, I hate doing it. I hate that it takes so much time to do it in the mornings. I hate that I have to buy razors and handles and cream/foam/gel (whatever). I hate that I have to look at my ugly mug each morning and debate, “Is today the day? Should I shave or not? Can I get away with not doing it today?”

OK, ladies, I know. I know! Stop complaining, right? I realize I have way less surface area to shave. But, I also can’t (realistically) hide my noggin in pants, or under a skirt (or even in a mask). You at least have that! I don’t have the option to hide it if I don’t want to shave.

And, yes, I could just go full lumberjack (or worse, hipster…), but this just isn’t really acceptable in the business world quite yet and I also have some health issues that keep from doing it long term. So, yeah, there are limitations that make it necessary to shave.

I just hate it.

 

That zit, I’ve had it!

pimple-forehead-13000754

Stock photo from some random Google search.

Of course, I wake up and there is a freaking beacon of red, flashing on my forehead this morning. Of course. Where the hell did that come from?

Zit. Pimple. Blemish. Skin eruption.

Is it me, or do guys/men have a distinct disadvantage when dealing with this kind of stuff? I mean, if something of this sort happens to a woman (ok, I am generalizing here), they have products to deal with it, AND at the very least something to cover it up. Guys, we don’t have those kinds of products…or at least a vast majority of men don’t. So, now what?

To add to this already relatively unattractive mug, I now have something to stare at as I present in front of a group or talk to clients. Great. Just great. As if I didn’t already have a reason to feel self-conscious.