I walked into an appointment yesterday and as I sidled up to the edge of the plexiglass shield between me and the receptionist, I simultaneously became aware of several things at once: the stares of the other clients in the waiting room, the mysteriously cool breeze on my face, the look of horror on the receptionist and the perplexing amount of free-to-infect area between me and that person on the other side of the desk.

I had forgotten to put on my face mask before exiting my car.

With extreme apologies, I quickly donned the spare mask that I keep in my purse at all times. I could have also used the one that I have stashed in the secret pocket of my winter coat or the one that I use as a bookmark in the paperback in my purse or the one that I tuck into my boot in case I misplace all the others. JK. (Sort of.) Once I put my mask on, I returned from The Land of the Shunned and was admitted into the deeper recesses of the waiting room. But I still had to shield myself from some dirty looks.

I am not an anti-masker, just someone who doesn’t emerge from their house that often. I’m also not a germaphobe – no judgement here and I expect none back from the ‘phobes – so I have no internal bells and whistles going off either. With a spouse in a career that had him wearing a mask daily before Dr. Deena told him to, I was given one piece of advice when I complained about either wearing one or not being comfortable: Suck it up, princess.

And so, I have. Besides the obvious Caring For My Fellow Humankind angle, there’s actually a few things I like about mandated mask-wearing.

One: It’s February in Alberta. When the wind chill registers way lower than what the actual temperature is, any extra layer is welcome. I’m not a sissy, it’s the law.

Two: I have rosacea, a skin condition that flares up on any given day (like cold ones) which even the best makeup sometimes fails to disguise. A mask covers up my cheeks and my nose where the redness is most prominent and I don’t have to bother slathering on foundation with a spackle knife. (Yes, it’s an silly insecurity but it’s my insecurity.)

Three: There’s a level playing field out there when everyone has to wear a mask. No one is staring anyone down or saying anything nasty because they’re mask-less. And I no longer have to feel like an oddball in a store if I’m the only one wearing one and I’m not the cashier.

Sure, I look forward to a time when we no longer have to mask up, but I don’t necessarily think masking is going to end when the pandemic does. When we travelled to Asia twelve years ago at the tail-end of the H1N1 scare, we saw many of their citizens wearing masks all the time. It felt foreign to us (well, hello, we were in another country), but it didn’t take long to realize that they just more comfortable with the mask on than without. It might take awhile for many of us to get out of the habit.

Or, at least to that extra cool air on your face.