The Anxiety of Something Coming:
Many weeks before anyone except my hip hop teacher, who, surprise!, has a PhD in immunology, believes that this virus is “a thing” I notice people of Asian ethnicity wearing masks. Like, a whole lot of masks. I lived in Japan and understand the conscientiousness culture of wanting to keep one’s germs to one’s self. But it was starting to seem extreme. Was every Asian person in Pittsburgh ill?

The Anxiety of Missing Something:
I realize I have not seen an Asian person’s mouthparts in weeks, any Asian person’s, and also some non-Asian people are starting to wear masks. Are all these people immunocompromised? Is there something I’m missing that they have figured out?

The Anxiety of The Hubs Reading The News Even Though We Gave It Up for Lent:
“This virus is going to be huge,” he tells me. But even he didn’t think to stock up on masks.

The Anxiety of Being Logical:
“NO” say all the important voices, “do not wear a mask. Masks do nothing. Masks are, in fact, GERM MAGNETS.” Whew. I am not wearing a mask when I leave my house for my weekly foray out into the general public, and I am definitely not an epidemiologist, but still I wonder, logically, wouldn’t my germs stay more with me and your germs stay more with you if we were all masked?

The Anxiety of Knowing a Trustworthy Source:
Some people that I follow on Facebook have begun to talk about masks. Like my hip hop teacher, and unlike many of the White House staff, they are surprisingly credentialed – PhDs abound! They can read graphs! They are evaluating data from other countries! These smarty pants friends want medical staff to have lots of masks; they also want everyone to stop breathing on anyone. I decide to grocery shop less, and not breathe on anyone.

The Anxiety of Not Listening To My Gut Which Tells Me To Just Be An Early Mask Adopter:
I grocery shop. It is really hard to keep six feet of distance from people. Also: touching the cart, ugh. Some steampunk looking kids in the crappy muffins aisle are wearing black drapey fabric over their nose, mouth, chin, and necks. They are loving this. Maybe. I can’t tell, I can only see their eyes and even then I feel guilty, like I’m accidentally breathing into their eyeballs.

The All Consuming Rage Anxiety of the Last Three Years:
I read too many news articles and see that the leaders of many great nations and also ours are all shaking hands and standing chummily in the sneeze zone at press conferences. The President, who has made it clear that this virus ranks somewhere in the ether with the tooth fairy and any rumors of his insufficient leadership, does not wear a mask or model social distancing. Now I am terrified to go anywhere without a mask.

The Anxiety of Trusting Dr Fauci:
Now here’s an older white man in government who seems somewhat intelligent and trustworthy. This alone makes me anxious, how has he kept his job? But at least he is strongly steering the public away from the President’s nonsensical gibberish about this virus. I keep wearing my mask.

The Anxiety of Seeing Photos in Which Young Hip Persons Are Standing In Line To Vote In a Variety of Masks Including a Filtering Respirator One Might Use While Woodworking:
This is where sticking to the Lenten resolution would have come in handy but boy is it photogenically apocalyptic.

The Anxiety of Not Liking Any of the Cute Fabrics All My Friends on Social Media Have Chosen for the Masks They are Sewing:
No I would not like blue polka dots. No I do not want rainbow colored tree frogs. No I do not need contrasting color straps or tie strings or repurposed elastic hair bands.

The Anxiety of Knowing the Developed World Has Run Out of Elastic and Bias Tape and Will Soon Run Out Of Hair Bands:
See above.

The Anxiety of Other People Being Wrong:
The mailman, who used to wear a mask, and surgical gloves, gives me a long explanation about why he is no longer wearing a mask, or surgical gloves. He then coughs on my mail and sets it on the porch. Just kidding. But he could have. He made this decision based on a YouTube video he saw about how masks and gloves actually make you feel safer than you are. I know this about gloves from food service. I still think a mask is at least going to catch his germs before their droplets hit me, standing on my steps six feet below him. I love our mailman – he is a topic of conversation several times a week at our house, even before the virus hit and we ran out of things to talk about. But really, he should put his mask back on.

The Anxiety of Explaining a Global Pandemic to your Children:
My five year old can’t sleep. We talk about masks. I didn’t know he knew about masks, he must have seen our neighbor going to her car. I keep mine in the car, which my child hasn’t seen the inside of in, oh, what feels like three years. He wants to know why kids don’t wear masks when they go outside. I tell him outside is a great place, the fresh air and rain are cleaning the earth like it’s their job. Grownups have to wear masks when they’re around other grownups, especially indoors, to keep their germs to themselves. I tell him he will never see another grown-up up close until he graduates from high school. Ha ha! Humor is a good survival technique!

The Anxiety of Knowing a Zookeeper:
My friend the zookeeper is now wearing a mask when she tends to the animals. Apparently, coronavirus has spread to big cats. I am now regularly anxious about big cats because see below.

The Anxiety of Knowledge About Big Cats, aka I Spent the First Week of Shutdown Watching Tiger King, and When I Say Watch I Really Mean Can’t-Look-Away:
What a train wreck. Myself, and the Tiger King.

The Anxiety of Realizing That The People You Thought Weren’t Following CDC Guidelines Are Already Wearing Masks When You Gently Suggest To Them That Maybe They Should:
Huh. How bout that. This really is a thing now.

The Anxiety of Actually Wearing a Mask:
It’s hot in here. Can anyone tell I’m smiling? Are other people smiling? Everyone looks so grim. Is that because they can’t read facial expressions, or because we’re in the midst of a global pandemic? My nose is itching. I just got my ear bud cords massively tangled up in my dangly earrings, bike helmet straps, and mask elastic. I wish my mask was black and made me look like a ninja. I wonder if my mother-in-law will send me a mask made from leftover hot dog quilt fabric. Is it ok to scratch my nose through my mask if I’m wearing gloves? Apparently wearing this mask makes it impossible for me to remember all the items on my grocery list. My two year old looooooves his mask; I’m sending him to grocery shop from now on.

This post is dedicated to my mother-in-law, a long time pediatric nurse, who in her retirement recently sewed 408 beautiful masks for people in need!