This morning I put on makeup for the first time in days. I have to admit, seeing my mirror reflection without eyebrows was getting a little depressing, so the Maybelline therapy was rehab for my flagging spirits as well as my sagging upper lids. The only fly in this ointment is that I have a lab appointment at a local clinic that I can't afford to postpone any longer. This requires me to leave my safe haven and mingle with humanity.

This is all so weird, so Twilight Zone-ish. Last Friday I was wondering how I should feel about forced restrictions on my activities. Today I am worrying about having to venture out to a public place. [Cue the eerie organ music.] Is the doctor's office—staffed by professionals who know all about sterilizing surfaces and containing contagions—one of the safer public places to be? Or is it one of the more dangerous, considering the walking germ factories that some waiting room patients could unknowingly embody?

How about the neighborhood gas station, where I regularly buy my weekly supply of bananas for half the price as my local Cub Foods? I really need bananas. Should I dip them in a mild bleach solution when I get home, just to be safe? Probably. And will the Clorox wipes sitting on the passenger seat in my van do a sufficient job of sanitizing my steering wheel of any bacteria that may accompany me home after this risky mission?

As I contemplate in writing every imaginable chilling scenario resulting from what, last month, would have been a normal day of errand-running, I find myself bouncing in my chair to the beat of Bobby Lewis' "Tossin' and Turnin'."  Next thing I know I'm tapping my foot to the Elvis Presley classic, "All Shook Up." I am playing a 24-selection CD of Jukebox Favorites: Musical Memories from the 50s and 60s.

I know all the talking heads are offering ideas for how to stay calm and untroubled in a time of uncertainty. I personally recommend a dose of Oldies from the be-bop era. It's hard to resist the lure of those upbeat rhythmic tunes and lyrics that positively insist that we sing along. Oh, and makeup, ladies, makeup. There's nothing like a bit of color on your cheeks and definition to your eyes to lift a girl's spirits.

So before embarking on my perilous adventure, a touch of lip gloss and a flick of mascara. If I can manage to look younger than my years, maybe I'll feel less like I belong in that "vulnerable" category we've heard so much about. Wacky thinking, perhaps. But then these are crazy times.