Today is the day I stopped stalling.
My BMI is on the cusp of “overweight,” and other than an overweening fondness for nondairy cheeses made from a mysterious hodgepodge of plant oils, space ingredients (dark matter for sure, and perhaps a soupçon of tauntaun smegma), and hipster smugness, I don’t have any qualifying preexisting conditions.
The only drug I take is an antidepressant, which allows me to visit family in my small Trumpy hometown in Wisconsin once or twice a year without my organs spontaneously shutting down.
So now that everyone in the U.S. is eligible to get the coronavirus vaccine—as of today!—my morning task was clear: Sign up for the Fauci ouchie. Which I did. I’m scheduled for Friday morning at my local Rite Aid.