We're on day 6 of the full-fledged quarantine. Things continue to be going well and my temperature continues to be low (97.0 and 96.8).

We're a couple weeks into the Ebola scare, and this must also be the time that the computer hackers start to catch on to happenings in your area. The pop-ups on my computer have changed from lonely singles in my area to Ebola-related pop-ups:

Seriously, someone should do their PhD thesis on this. I would be interested to learn what the normal waiting time was until pop-ups were adjusted. As well as what the magnitude of events are that necessitate the change. The Ebola scare obviously was big enough to change the content of pop-ups. But how about other, less significant items? Will the pop-ups change when the football championship comes to Dallas? What about when Big Tex burned down?

I mentioned in my previous post that this quarantine was a time of learning. My most recent observation was that I have come to realize that I am am a rule follower.

As a reminder: following the rules is not cool. Persons reading this blog over age 40: you are going to have a difficult time understanding this post. You've been subjected to too many years of oppression: oppression by the government, your workplace, and possibly your spouse (if you're a dude). And this has worn you thin. You do not like to break the rules anymore. You have seen the consequences and are wise enough to know that you are not invincible (you likely found that out in your early 30's when you tried to lift that stupid rock in the garden), thus breaking the rules has lost its appeal to you. But try to remember what it was like when you were young. Think: James Dean. Wasn't he popular? James Dean didn't get the chicks by running around with Barney Fife all day - no, he lived by his own rules. (If Horatio Alger was popular when you were young, forget this speech. I will not be able to connect with you.)

Now that I have you in the appropriate mindset, let's discuss how my rule-abiding made my life more difficult than it had to be. When I received the call on Friday and the initial visit from my DPH contact, I was informed that I was quarantined. Now, they made it clear multiple times that this quarantine was voluntary. However, again, letters from various government agencies made this the most sternly-worded voluntary event I have ever participated in (and believe me, I've done more than a few "voluntary" activities in my life. For the record, it wasn't my idea to compete in the pinewood derby 4 years in a row or play in the band).

Like most things I do, I took this quarantine seriously. I was being one of the noble individuals who voluntarily entered this exercise in isolation. And as such, I was committed to not leave my place. For those of you who know me, you know that I am very active and am swimming, or outside running and riding my bike pretty much every day. So you can only imagine the minor internal panic attack I had when I thought about the prospect of not going outside. No worries, I thought, I'll just ride my bike trainer in my living room.

If you don't know what a bike trainer is, it's basically a contraption that you hook your rear wheel up to so that you can turn your normal bike into a stationary bike. Riding in this manner is the most mind-numbing exercise I have ever experienced, especially when I'm accustomed to riding a couple times around White Rock Lake in the morning. Ignoring the changes in terrain that accompany riding outside, my scenery has essentially changed from the sun rising over a beautiful lake with the city skyline in the background to this:

Yes that is actually my apartment. I decorated it myself, can you tell? There are three TV series DVDs in view, see who can be the first to name all three correctly in the comments. Bonus points if you can guess the game currently sitting in the N64.

Back to the discussion at hand, now you can empathize with why I say riding the trainer is awful. I am able to watch Netflix with captions and listen to music in my headphones, so I am able to stay reasonably distracted. I even went searching online for various trainer workouts but that search yielded even more depressing news. One article said not to ride the trainer more than 3 times a week because of the mental fatigue and burn out that it would cause. Whatever, I'm not one to listen to how I should be "feeling" (the correct answer is: nothing). My mentality on day 1 was: "What a joke. That rule's for soft people. I'm gonna beast mode this for 21 days." But my mentality bay day 3 was: "Holy crap this is literally the worst." (said in a Chris Traeger voice from Parks & Rec)

During this time period between day 1 and day 3 I also got a new letter. A letter in which I had to sign and return so I knew it meant business. This letter made it seem like my quarantine was no longer a voluntary exercise. Although I had been banned from commercial air travel by being placed on the Do Not Fly list, up to this point I theoretically still could have traveled by alternate means and go pretty much wherever I pleased. This new letter made it clear that I was not permitted to travel by commercial means, I was not permitted to enter any public gathering places, and I was required to monitor my temperature 2x daily, one of which was in a face-to-face encounter. Failure to adhere to these measures may result in me being subject to a communicable disease order. No, I don't know what I communicable disease order is, but I don't want to find out either.

This letter, while effectively sealing the nail in the coffin, actually gave me more freedom than I had previously. Under the prior regime, I was under the assumption that I couldn't leave my apartment period. Although I hadn't heard otherwise, I imposed the most restrictive measures on myself and decided that they were appropriate. This new letter clearly defined what I could not do, and in doing so, also defined what I could do. I was now emboldened to ask my DPH contact if I was permitted to go outside running and biking so long as I didn't come into contact with anyone else. I even went as far as saying that I would be back in the confines of my apartment by 6 AM if I had to - honestly I just wanted to go outside. He informed me that other quarantined people were being allowed to walk their dogs and as long as I stayed 3 feet away from other people and wasn't exhibiting symptoms, I could go outside. Even if swimming was completely off the table, I still chalked it up as a "W".

I had the same thought as many of you probably have right now: how am I supposed to stay 3 feet away from people? I am going out at 5 or 6 in the morning, so that certainly reduces the chances of encounters. But even then, I have to pass people from a confusingly far distance - i.e. there is an open sidewalk I still run all the way out in the street to pass. I feel a little ridiculous but hey, I'm just happy to be out there. Plus, when I saw a woman walking a stroller with a SARS mask yesterday I understood that some people are really freaked out about this and I should just relax and be happy (although, for the record, this lady didn't bother to put a mask on her baby. So that's some great parenting right there). Speaking of unnecessary freak outs, I thought I'd share this one with y'all: I was on a work conference call when someone asked the nurse if my bodily waste was being specially treated. (The short answer is no).

Although, the logistics of running seem to be a little more simple than biking. When you bike alone, sometimes you have these turds who sit on your back wheel and draft off you. I don't know these people and I don't know how to ensure they stay at least 3 feet away, unless I blow them up with speed (so looks like speed training is in my near future).

So when going through these instances in my head, I had an idea on how to make this process a little more safe. I think the answer is give the quarantiners (quarantinees?) bright neon vests that just say "¡EBOLA!" in reflective letters. In my experience, people are not messing with anything that is remotely relevant with Ebola and I figure this will reduce confusion and people will literally run the other way when they see you coming. I added the Spanish upside down exclamation to give the message a little added element of danger, which I thought was appropriate.

Getting back to this issue at hand, I am a pathetic rule follower. On the plus side, I only went a few days before making this realization and asking if I could go outside. But, thinking back, I should have just been going outside and doing this anyway. I've had multiple people in positions of authority concur with that strategy. I guess I'm just not as cool as I'd like to think I am. However in defense of my coolness - if the past is any indicator, with some gentle peer pressure I can be coaxed into doing some pretty cool things (Depends on who you ask though. Definitely don't ask my parents.)

Song of the blog - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eh6CWdzX8jI