I – oh wow. Okay. Fuck.

I, um – Hooh, boy. I just completely lost my shit with a group of college students who were sitting in a public building on campus, not wearing masks. I think maybe they were working on math homework together or something.

This staff member – I didn’t see her, but I heard her voice, she sounded a bit older, maybe just a tad heavy, literally none of this is relevant – told them off. Not unkindly. Not even in a reprimanding tone of voice. Just a casual remark in passing.

And when she was just about probably out of earshot, one of these punks called her a bitch. And then they laughed about it.

And I totally fucking flipped my shit.

It had been a long day.

If you’re reading this you probably know that I don’t talk to people. Not people I don’t know. Not unless I’m getting paid to initiate conversations.

…but I sure as hell initiated that one.

Still shaking, a bit. More than a bit.

I know for certain that they called me a bitch, too, when I walked away. Or something along those lines. Because I heard one of them tell another to shut the hell up. But I really couldn’t give a flying fuck what they think of me.

I’m not proud of myself. But it isn’t because I’m too much like my mom. It isn’t because I’m compulsive about following rules without thinking critically about them. That isn’t the thing.

I’m a goddamn fucking recovering kleptomaniac. I have been burning forbidden candles in my room in secret for longer than my mother would like to know about. I once accidently smuggled half a joint off Marijuana across an international border. I’m exaustingly critical of the binary political system in America and I think we could actually use a little more socialism than we currently have, here. I don’t really believe in God and I think a lot of Christianity is bullshit but I go to church anyway because I like some of the things that the people there have to say. Also, I’m so far back in the closet that it’s literally fucking snowing, but I’m not exactly cishet.

Being an obsessive rule-follower is not my problem. It really just is not.

But I do wish I had communicated more clearly, in that moment. I wish I had flipped my shit more articulately. I wish my words had packed more punch. Because I don’t think what I said made any difference at all. I don’t think they’ll think twice. I don’t think they’re going to change. I have zero control over the actions of other people and i know this, so I’m not sure if it would have made any difference, anyway. I don’t know if it matters.

But fuck do I wish those words had come out making sense.

Please, for the love of everything that matters. Put on a goddamn mask. It is a small peice of fabric over half of your face. It is, at worst, a minor discomfort or inconvenience.

No, I don’t care if you feel fine. It doesn’t mean you’re not asymptomatic.

No, I don’t care that you tested negative. A negative test result is a reflection of the amount of virus in your system at a very specific moment in time. Also, a negative test result isn’t always going to be accurate. The margin of error for these things is really high. It doesn’t mean you don’t have the plague.

No, I don’t care that you all live together. Look around. You’re in a room with other people. This thing is airborne. You are inside a building with shit for ventilation where air circulates constantly. You don’t know anything about the health conditions of the people in the room around you. You don’t know anything about the health conditions of the people in their lives. It is baseline consideration for the safety of the people around you to exercise this level of caution.

If you want to sit together with your masks off, go back to your dorm. Go outside. Don’t put the people around you at risk.

Case numbers are rising. Hundreds of thousands of people have died and, and countless more have lost the people they love most in the world. And they didn’t get to fucking say goodbye.

Don’t take that risk with my father’s life, you assholes. A healthcare worker on a college campus who’s had thirteen fucking rounds of pneumonia has a lot of fucking cards stacked against him. I’m doing everything I can, I think, I hope, but I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this thing without losing somebody, too. And I’m fucking scared.

Also, don’t call somebody a bitch for telling you to give a shit about the people around you.

She was right, and you are being a dick.

Shit.

Humans are so fucking stupid.

I’m going to go take a nap.