Friday morning, I went to the grocery at 7:00 AM. For the first shopping trip in more than a month, and I was damned tired of cooking beans and rice and pearled barley and split peas, with dried soup greens and dried vegetable flakes. I don't think I've ever gone to the grocery before at 7:00 AM, but this was when they opened, like, right after they deep-cleaned the place, so I'm in there with the truly elderly, all coming at the start of the day. It was also my first shopping trip in many years where I actually filled a cart, and my first shopping trip ever in a half facepiece, twin-cartridge respirator.
I was pleasantly surprised to see most of my fellow shoppers were, in fact, at least masked, and most were also carefully observing social distancing. Thoroughly tired of cooking without fresh produce, I scored some nice red onions, green bell peppers and celery for the weeks ahead (because I'm gonna prep and freeze them). Also, lots of frozen microwavables, and some TP (I didn't really need yet, but just in case) and some snack food.
A bare 1.3 hours after I launched this mission, I was back home, with everything appropriately stowed, and the respirator and cartridges appropriately decontaminated and back in their sealed containers. An appropriate amount of (almost responsibly controlled) binge feeding followed, though I have yet to open any of the snack nuts or chips and salsa. At the close of the day, a two-hour treadmill workout took off about 1140 of those calories, followed, however, by a few Rolling Rock, extra pales.
This is life in the pandemic. At dawn, 40 roses to feed, and bills to pay, maybe some mowing to do, and getting ready for another week. No need just now to iron the white shirts or steam the suits and ties. I've been spending more time in denim jeans and blue workshirts than any time since my teenage years.
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