Socially Distanced

Chapter 2

After finally finding my first class of the day, I enter the room. Oh no... this can't be. The room is almost full. The last row is completely filled up with students. I start to sweat.

I can't have anyone sitting behind me. They'll cough and sneeze, and I'll be right there in front of them! Even if they cover their mouths, it won't be good enough. The pathogens will get through. They'll get stuck in my hair and engulf me. I'll breathe them into my lungs! My legs start to shake.

I stand at the doorway for a long time, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly two students walk past me, coughing as they enter the room. Everybody is coughing. Now they're looking at me. They see right through me. They know why I'm a germaphobe. They know my biggest fear. I don't feel clean. I've contaminated my hands. I don't want to infect the others. I drop my books and back out of the room, running to the bathroom to wash my hands for the fifth time this morning.

Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep. The shrill alarm on my cell phone wakes me up. Welcome to a day in my life. Each morning usually starts with a germaphobic nightmare. I unplug my charger and quickly scroll through my notifications, then I get changed and put my wavy brunette hair into a messy bun.

I walk into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast. I open the fridge and scan what we have. I pull out some bread and butter. Preparing meals was always such a hassle. Even after I thoroughly washed my hands and soaped them up twice, I still didn't feel that I was clean enough to touch my own food. I rarely ate with my hands, and instead used silverware to eat everything. I shook out two slices of bread without touching them. I glanced at the toaster. I should toast them, but that would involve having to pick them up with my hands. I shook my head. Can't do that. I spread the butter on my bread and cut it up with a knife so I could eat it with a fork.

After I ate, I packed up my things and drove to my most hated place on the planet: school. This degree better be worth it. I found my class quickly. Perks of being a sophomore, I thought. I scanned the back row and exhaled the breath that I didn't realize I had been holding.

The back row was fairly empty. There was only one student sitting in the very back corner. I sat all the way at the other end and got out my belongings. I still had some time before class started, so I got up to wash my hands. Luckily the bathroom wasn't far from this class, so it was pretty
convenient for me. I washed my hands, turned off the water with a paper towel, and opened the door with it. Now came the tricky part. I propped the door open with my foot while I aimed for the garbage can to toss the towel away. I missed, of course. Now I had to make a decision. I either had to go back and pick it up, which would involve me having to use another paper towel to open the door again, or I could leave it and let someone else take care of it. I peeked at my surroundings. Nobody in sight. I casually sifted away from the bathroom, leaving the mess for someone else.

Another negative aspect of my fear was that it caused me to appear selfish to others. To them, I was a fairly lazy person who didn't want to do much. In reality, I spent all of my waking hours making myself miserable while I tried to remain clean. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but to me, it became a game; get through the day without any incidents so you can feel that you haven't been contaminated. You can feel okay if you just do that. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and short-tempered, not able to deal with anything else.