The mask did not bother me while climbing at the gym. Sure, it wasn’t easy to speak while wearing it which resulted in stifled dialogue as we strove to comprehend each other’s words, yet its presence did not impede the act of climbing. A crux arrived and my awareness of the mask receded. Heading into the experience, I had imagined that it’d feel horrific to fall while half-gagged. Though, when I fell the mask’s presence became inconsequential. Friction ended up being what bothered me the most. Over the course of two-and-a0half hours, the ear bands dug into my ears and left them raw.
I suppose I hadn’t ever worn one of these things for more than thirty or so minutes. Grocery shopping has been the primary scene within which I’ve had to filter my breath so as to help protect my fellow citizens from me recast as a dragon who may emit pathogens rather than fire. In mentioning my sore ears, Daniel responded by sharing that he prefers masks that tie behind the head. I hadn’t considered that I might have a preference.
That anyone might have such a preference had eluded me. I have encountered articles about mask fashion and have seen advertisements showing all manners of styles, yet that I’d have any mask other than the two that Kelly had made me existed outside of what my brain had yet conceived. It all seemed foreign. Masks have been ancillary, rare accoutrements adorned in passing. Yet, now the notion that I might have preferences had fallen upon me. Might I have a preference? Should I ask Kelly to manufacture me a me mask with a different means to secure it to my face? Should I attempt to sew one myself? To dredge up whatever grasp of home economics had embedded itself into me years ago? I’ll just deal with what I have for now, for my ears will become used to the mask before long. Perhaps should more extended occasions arises that require greater comfort, I’ll develop a preference. Or, I might stumble into owning more masks, of varying designs.