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How I Caught Covid… After Avoiding it for Nearly Two and a Half Years
Spoiler Alert: I went to a concert indoors without masks
Today marks the sixth day since I tested positive for Covid-19. All things considered, I suppose I had a fairly mild case of the virus. I didn’t end up in the hospital. I didn’t end up on a ventilator. Still, I feel like an idiot for allowing it to happen.
How??? How did I catch this fucking virus after managing to avoid it for nearly two and a half years???
Well.
The easy answer is that I, like the majority of the American public, allowed myself to get lazy and complacent. I allowed the fatigue of taking precaution to overwhelm my sense of self-preservation. And thusly, once the mask mandates were released, I foolishly believed that largely the threat of repercussion from this virus was over. I stopped wearing my mask.
Millions of people are dead, sure. But not me, bitch. I’ve had my vaccines. I’ve had my booster. I’m practically invincible, walking around clad prominently as a peacock in the plot armor of my own existence.
I believed that my normal life was returning! Should I go to a concert in an indoor stadium with thousands and thousands of people clustered together, all maskless and free? Of fucking…
