I suited up, donned my armor of a homemade mask and disposable gloves, and took on the grocery store this morning, picking stuff up for me and for my parents. They’ve managed to get some deliveries; I’ve gone two weeks on the groceries I got last time.
I managed to snag paper towel and toilet paper, both of which I needed, so on that front, good. They didn’t have a shelf-stable almond milk I can drink, so I am experimenting with soy milk and cashew milk. Good luck to me.
These grocery trips are not the grocery trips of before, casually shopping, perusing the aisles, or darting in and out. They are a strategic forage, grabbing what you can when you can.
They are a heavy, awkward dance, trying to maintain the six feet of distance. So many people refuse to comply. Most of those people appear to be men.
Get it together, men.
Anyway, I’m stocked, and I may or may not have gotten two pints of ice cream. I mean, it’s the apocalypse after all.
Whatever you do with your Wednesday, I hope it’s great.