I did my first COVID test yesterday.
It was all very matter-of-fact; from the comfort of my own car, by way of a CVS drive thru and a very pleasant pharmacy person coaching me along.
Now the wait begins.
I’m not expecting anything other than negative – but I am concerned that I won’t have my answer in time to fly out Wednesday. Then what?
They said it takes two days to get the results back, which means tomorrow. And the test can only be three days old.
My buddy did the same thing for his Jamaica holiday and it came in on time. Though he did admit the waiting was a wee bit stressful.
Eh, I’m just anxious.
Travelling now takes a lot more stuff to do besides 1) buy tickets and 2) pack.
To be allowed through the airport gates, you have to present, multiple times:
- A copy of your fully vaccination certificate.
- A copy of your negative COVID test result.
- Waiting results.
- A “Day 2” post-arrival COVID test waiting at your arrival country, with a confirmation code to put on the bit below.
- Copies of your ‘personal locator’ forms filled in for each country you to pop into, regardless of whether you are in transit or final destination (this form requires the confirmation number from your Day 2 test purchase). I need one for my stop over through Dublin airport, and one for England.
- I’ll do that today or tomorrow.
Pre-THIS messy mess, my day-of trip checklist consisted of the following: Suitcase, Passport, Phone, Credit Card, Glasses, Laptop, Me.
I’m not complaining. I’m just not into being this adult.
Also, and this is amusing me to no end, I don’t own a printer. So I have to run over to my brother Drew’s place when I get my test results, and get this stuff on actual paper.
If I had to really think on it, I’d say the last time I owned a printer was about 8 years. If that’s wrong then it’s been at least 4.
I kind of remember having one. They’re that yellow-greyish side-heavy plastic thing that costs $80 upfront, but requires an investment portfolio to keep up with replacement ink cartridges.
What a bizarro thing to realise in the midst of prepping for a trip, that I’ve been printer-free since the mid 20 teens.
Regardless of whether this paperwork mounting requirement becomes an industry standard for travel, I am NOT buying a printer.
Do you hear me World?
No way. No how. Will this pandemic ever make me run after again depleted levels of Cyan Blue, or fret as the once Scarlett Blood Red ink turns into a Watered Down Misty Rose.
I don’t do this often, but here I draw the line.