As we begin to tentatively contemplate what a return to normalcy after coronavirus might look like, I’ve started to come to grips with the ways my personal lifestyle might need to change in this new world we live in. Here are just a few of the changes I’m begrudgingly coming to accept.

Continued Social Distancing — For starters, it will be important to maintain at least a six-foot separation from other people at all times. So, out of necessity, I will no longer pretend to know people at parties whose name I can’t remember — instead, waving at them from a safe distance, just as I did before but not feeling guilty about it now. I will also no longer be trapped at the coffee machine talking about the weather. Nor making idle chit-chat with anyone I previously felt obliged to make idle chit-chat with.

No Grazing on My Kids' Meals — Approximately two-thirds of my total caloric intake occurs from devouring the un-eaten portions of my kids’ meals. No more. Viruses spread through teenagers faster than a Kim Kardashian Instagram meme. Orphaned French fries, half-eaten cheeseburgers, that extra bit of milkshake in the stainless steel cup, you are all dead to me in the name of safety. Unless I’m really hungry.

The innocent temptation of Heinz ketchup. Now a petri dish of death. (Photo by Charisse Kenion on Unsplash)

No More Death Grips — I was already suffering from a sprained pinky finger (long story) that made hand shaking painful. For the sake of personal health, I’ll no longer be shaking hands with huge dudes who crush your hand in a G.I. Joe death grip as part of some show of machismo and physical intimidation. Best case, you get an elbow bump out of me.

Goodbye Office Buffet — I was no stranger to the everything bagel that’s been groped by a half-dozen people topped with an inch-thick schmear, despite having already eaten a hearty breakfast. The apple fritter the size of a hubcap, the cheesecake for Wendy’s birthday that isn’t even very good, the Specialty’s cookie as big as a hockey puck (one of which has been broken in half, and, everyone knows, if you only eat half a cookie it doesn’t have any calories), you will no longer tempt me. Most days.

The End of Grocery Store Samples — I used to eat my body weight in cheese samples at my local boutique grocery store. And I only re-used my toothpick twice. Tragically, that will be but a faint memory. I can no longer partake. Clearly, without samples, there’s no reason ever go to Costco again.

And the list goes on. Among the other difficult changes from my pre-corona routine, I will no longer be:

Picking up the check at restaurants — Can’t risk touching that dirty folio. I’m sure you understand.
Withdrawing money from an ATM unless I can enter my PIN using the tip of an umbrella.
Using pens and pencils more than once before disposing them in a hermetically-sealed bag and discarding into a biohazard waste receptacle.
Drinking Corona beer. Unless it’s cold, and there are limes.
Taking communion. The once every decade I take communion.
Flossing.
Feeding my dog without latex gloves. He can feed himself. Lazy bastard.
Using my computer mouse without first dropping it into a pot of boiling hand sanitizer.
Lifting weights at the gym. Or going to the gym.
Dispensing ketchup from a communal bottle. Syrup, you can forget about it. You were nasty anyway.
Volunteering for any activity within a two-mile radius of my kids’ schools.
Answering a call on my iPhone without holding it at arm’s length with kitchen tongs.
Taking a cruise. Ever.

It will be hard, but we all have to make sacrifices. I’ve been preparing for this my whole life. I'm ready.

Adjusting to Life After Coronavirus