Sunday, March 12, 2006

People sometimes wonder why I don't like to leave my house. I would love to be able to leave my house. But alas, it is just too scary.

Imagine that you go to the grocery store and the person in front of you in line is wearing perfume; you go to a restaurant and the food smells or the heating system turns on; you try to enter any building and there is someone smoking at the entrance; you go outside and the smog is so thick you can see it (or the windchill is so bad that your chest starts to burn from the cold). Or you are out with friends and you simply start to laugh.

Then there are the people that stare at you; that think you are going to rob them. Imagine walking into a gas station, convenience store or a bank wearing a mask. You would think in this day and age that no one would look at you twice. Think again. There are the stares, the whispers, the loud talkers. Or they simply back away from you like you are going to shoot them.

Or maybe they actually will talk to you. "Oh that's a nasty cold you have there!", they might say. Or perhaps they will give you the magic cure that fixed their laryngitis when they "the same thing yesterday". Or they too may back away from you so they won't catch anything. But you definitely won't be viewed as normal.

Nothing is normal anymore; no where is safe. But at least at home, you are relatively in the clear unless of course your husband takes a shower or puts his deodorant on. Or you want to play with your dogs in the yard or have a BBQ. Or simply clean your house or clothes or even brush your teeth.

Yes, this is my reality. And I am dealing with it as best I can. So the next time you ask me to go somewhere and I have to back out, please don't be offended. It isn't you. It really is me.


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