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Last December, I was looking forward to 2020 as a shiny new year. We have a couple of granddaughters who will be graduating and moving off to college soon, assuming we’ll be allowed out of our house by graduation time.
Since we’ve been ordered to stay home for the next few weeks, I thought I’d keep a diary, sort of, of how we’re fairing in this crazy, mixed-up world we call earth.
Day 1. Somehow we, and by "we," I mean I, missed out on the edict that came from the government telling us Americans to stock up on a couple of weeks of supplies that many translated to mean "EVERYBODY PANIC AND BUY OUT THE STORE!" I’m more of a buy what I need (translation: impulse buy crap I don’t need) every single day for my entire life. I don’t think I’ve ever had more than a week’s worth of food stockpiled.
I’ll get on a kick and make out a week’s worth of menus, write a list of what I need to make everything, leave the list at home, try to remember what is on the list, forget most of it, return home and decide I’m not in the mood for anything I wrote on the menu.
Day 2. We spent the day going from store to store in search of elusive rolls of toilet paper, paper towels, and hand sanitizer. I felt like a hunter in Africa seeking rare, wild game while fighting my way through a crowded parade. Who the heck needs so much toilet paper? The stores looked as though a tornado had blown through, taking out the paper goods, cleaning supplies, and even the dog food. What the heck???
Day 3. It’s getting ugly out there. I can no longer find the necessities I need. Who the heck stocks up on bubble bath. Bubble bath! Whoever bought it all, I hope you break out in a rash all over your body, and the stores are out of itch cream.
Day 4. I heard a few people are contemplating jumping out of their windows to escape the governmentimposed quarantine. Unfortunately for most of them, they live in one-story houses.
Day 5. Food supplies are running low, but we are determined to persevere. Our 50-pound dog is starting to look mighty tasty. Do you think there is a way to make her more tender considering she’s OLD? Just kidding. Maybe. Or maybe not. We’ll see.
Day 6. I can’t take it anymore. The good news is the big box stores seemed to be able to keep their wine supply stocked – until I got there. While everyone is still buying up all the toilet paper, paper towels, and hand sanitizer, I’m buying mood enhancers. How much of that stuff does anyone need? I guess they’ll not have to shop again until after Christmas. (Dang it. I probably just gave away most of these people’s secrets. Don’t be surprised if you get any of that stuff come December 25. Or your birthday. Or your anniversary. I can imagine that conversation."Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have. I mean it. You really shouldn’t have." Bang. (Just kidding. Maybe. Or maybe not.) Anyway, I decided to sanitize myself from the inside out. Ha Ha! I’ll show that crazy virus, by golly. Either the wine will kill it, or I won’t care — win-win.
Day 7. You know you’re getting bored when you start counting the beans, so everyone gets the exact same amount. Wouldn’t want to run out of food before this thing blows over.
I’m seriously thinking of disinviting a couple of friends whom I asked to come to spend a weekend with us. It’s not that I don’t want them to come, it’s because I don’t want to share our toilet paper, paper towels, and hand sanitizer. Would it be rude to ask them to bring their own?
Day 8. I’m getting really worried now. The virus must have made its way to the cave where telemarketers live. I haven’t received a call from them in days. What will I do now for an extended car warranty on a vehicle I haven’t owned in years? Whom will I contact about getting the government check President Trump promised if a stranger doesn’t contact me, asking for all my private information, including the name of our first-born?
We Americans, especially the Boomers, will survive. We managed to hang in there in December 1973, when Johnny Carson created a run on toilet paper by joking that there was a shortage. If we couldn’t trust Johnny, then there was just no reason to go on.
Unfortunately, I missed that run until it was too late. As I’ve said before, I’m a gal who is always late to the party.