It snows or never. Or later. Any time, in fact.

For all that I’m not doing this weekend (namely anything active or outgoing), there is one thing I’m doing remarkably well: Hiding from the outside world. This whole weekend I left the house three times. One gym visit and two supermarket shops. If I had’ve gained a tan on my New Zealand summer holiday (the rain and clouds said nope) it would’ve been gone by now. Is it time for me to start desperately chugging vitamin D yet? Maybe I can get one of those orange filters for my halogen lamp, affixing it above me as I sleep. Surely that works, right science? Then again, halogen lamps are bloody hot. My girlfriend wouldn’t likely be too happy to find her boyfriend having morphed into a fried egg. Since spending time outside isn’t a viable option, I should probably keep up with the moisturiser, elsewise get used to my new reflection. Once again, unhappy girlfriend. Vitamin D it is then.

Despite my aversion to the outdoors, I managed to not become a total recluse. I’m fortunately surrounded by enablers. Instead of having to leave, people came to me. All I had to offer them was nourishment both physical and mental. We had friends over for dinner last night, an activity that felt very mature and not at all an excuse to utterly gorge ourselves on delicious vittles. Not one iota. We put together a roasted pork loin with an assortment of roasted veggies, they brought bruscetta’d green beans and ice cream. It was an excellently chilled out night where we got to relax and just hang out. Given my more introverted tendencies lately, I couldn’t have thought of a better evening plan that didn’t involve riding off into the sunset on cybernetically armoured dinosaurs. Maybe next weekend.

Something that came up during dinner was the notion of plastic surgery. Without any intended shaming, I brought up my own personal discomfort with the idea of looking into the mirror and seeing things on my face that weren’t naturally of my own body. I’m pretty lucky, in that matter, to be happy enough with my own features. The idea of changing something cosmetically and potentially not being happy with the result feels deeply unsettling. Maybe I watched too many 90s after school specials in my youth. When I mentioned it, my friend piped up saying she’d actually had work done as a child to alter her deviated septum. When she was younger she had constant shortness of breath. Once it was cleared out, the issues went away. She couldn’t speak highly enough about having the procedure done.

A while back my girlfriend mentioned to me that I had a deviated septum, which was news to me. I’d never known what that was. Looking in the mirror though, it’s glaringly obvious that my nasal passages are differently sized. My whole life I’ve had difficulty breathing through both nostrils. I take a nasal spray every day and that helps. What if I could get that fixed though? If I had the surgery done and stopped it from being an issue? According to some quick googling, the procedure of septoplasty (with no cosmetic aspect) is covered by OHIP. I’d have to take time off work (though I do have the potential to work from home), but taking that time now to make a positive change for the rest of my life could be worth it in the long run. By the sounds of it, the shape of my nose wouldn’t be too affected either. Which is great, I like my nose. It’s noble looking. It’s even better when it works properly.

Should I do it? WHO NOSE, MAN?

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