On Monday of the second officially notified week of the beginning of the PANDEMIC®, one of my customers sneezed me full in the face.

I handed her the package she’d ordered from Amazon, and, when her hands were full of mail and she couldn’t cover her mouth, she thanked me for my efforts by ejecting one of the moistest sneezes I’ve ever had the displeasure of experiencing….full on….in my face.

Bloooooooooooooosh.

Sneeze juice all over me.

Gack.

I wiped my face off and said “see you later” and drove on.

What else could I do?

This was when any contact with another person could be a killer.

This was before we were used to the slow and steady undercurrent of dread we are accustomed to now.

This was before we’d licked coronavirus.

“Licked” is the wrong word, probably.

Getting sneezed on in a PANDEMIC® is spooky.

And then there was this Trump thing.

That’s a whole ‘nother ball of wax.

That would have been entertaining if it wasn’t so crazy and dangerous.

So….I had the PANDEMIC® to worry about….and I had to worry about talking about politics with people who were sure that the PANDEMIC® was a hoax designed to take down their CHOSEN ONE.

(Some parts of politics are freaking weird.)

That’s a lot of worries.

Then….I could worry about money…but…that had nothing to do with the PANDEMIC®.

(Well, it sort of did….but the Post Office made/let us all work through the darkest days of the Covid 19 thing, so the money part of it all never changed. We’d have the money….we just wondered if we’d live to spend it…)

I’m not supposed to talk about politics, anyway.

I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut and nod…just listen to the theories and alternate truth…let it all wash over me and then offer them a piece of chocolate from the Gump box.

Oh! I almost forgot! This past Monday, I got a double hernia at work!

(That’s true….but it sure is a good segue away from a dangerous zone…the POLITICS ZONE™.)

The doctor said I wasn’t supposed to lift anything heavier than 20 lbs.

How is that going to work?

I’ve got to roll that big rock up the hill and let it fall back down on me…over and over… before I finish.

Day after day, I have to roll that rock.

That burden is a lot heavier than 20 lbs.

What am I going to do?

The doctor said I need surgery.

I’ll get the surgery and keep on rolling the stone.

That’s what I’ll do.

Did I mention that lady sneezed me?