I am on my way to the dentist to get a crown when I remember I need a mask at the office. Yeah, yeah, yeah; I get it: Covid is the monster still lurking in the air. Right?
I'll probably die of it because I'm over Covid. Completely and 100% over it. I took a few of the shots and got deathly ill from shot #2 and booster #1. I have been medically advised never to take the vaccine ever again, and I never will; not unless the hematologist and I want to get up close and personal for another six months. Thanks, and she's a lovely woman, but no thanks.
I am so over Covid that I don't mask up anywhere anymore. Except, of course, at the dentist. Even my most recent trip to the dermatologist didn't require a mask. I wore one into the office and saw the entire staff unmasked. I asked, "No more mask requirement?" They smiled. "Oh, thank gawd," I replied.
Which brings me to the dentist.
Imagine my surprise when I get to the dentist office doorway a mere week after my last appointment, and I notice that the sign requiring masks has been taken down. I walk in, masked, of course, because I don't believe this for one red-hot second. I'll bet the sign fell off the door and blew away.
Nope. No one is masked up. No one, that is, except those actually doing the dental work.
And it's a damn good thing that the dentist has taken away the mask requirement because as soon as I get into the office, my new mask decides to throw a shoe -- one of the ear bands snaps apart. I can't wear this mask; I can only hold it plastered against my cheeks.
In the end, I am saved from the embarrassment of showing up without the proper mask, even though I have probably seventy-five new masks at home. Now the only crown I have to worry about is the one I wear as Queen of my Classroom.
