I’m a fairly calm, organized, obey-the-rules kinda gal. So, I’m handling the sanitation issue in a calm, organized and obey-the-rules kinda way. But yesterday I had a quiet, tidy meltdown.
Just giving you the visual – I went for a walk without Savannah, because with her, it’s a sniff not a walk. It was a gorgeous afternoon – almost too hot to walk in a mask so I cut my walk a bit short when I saw my watch ping to let me know I had a parcel to be picked up from the parcel room. The system is technology at its best … the delivery carrier places the box in a locker, scans it and the system automatically sends a notification with a code. I checked to make sure no one else was in the parcel room – it’s too small for social distancing between the locker aisles – entered my code and retrieved my parcel, a soft envelope containing fabric that I’d ordered to make more masks – that’s another story. Clasping the envelope to my body with my arms because I needed two hands to exit the parcel room door and two hands to use my key fob and pull open the building entrance door, my heart stopped when I realized I was without doubt rubbing virus germs all over myself. Typically I take a carrier bag to pick up parcels and mail for that reason but I had been mid-walk outside.
So there I was, covered in potential virus and starting to hyperventilate with a mask on. I got the front door open and was about to drop the parcel on the sanitation station inside when I realized I hadn’t opened the sheet of newspaper in readiness and the bottle of Lysol was lying on top of a stack of newspaper and not standing to attention. I didn’t want to drop the package on the floor and transfer germs inside so I walked onto the porch but then realized that Savannah might lie on top of the virus before I had time to clean. So, I started to rip the package open to get the fabric out … but I still had gloves on and plastic envelopes are constructed not to rip easily. I finally managed to pull out the packets of fabric, grabbed the Lysol and sprayed the plastic bags liberally and then placed the dripping products on the porch and tossed the outer virus-carrying envelope. Remember, I still had my mask on. I could hardly breathe. Finally, I removed my gloves, in the correct way, then my mask and, being careful not to touch where I had clasped the parcel, I finished wiping the fabric bags, tossed those before Savannah could sniff them, washed my hands, ran into the bathroom, tore off my clothes the way I have learned to remove gloves – inside out – and jumped into the shower.
As I said, it’s not easy being clean!