Today, I scored toilet paper and West Virginia finally confirmed its first case of COVID-19.
Yes, I ventured out to the Kroger again. I needed some things and rumor had it that the store had been restocked. Besides TP, there was an urgent need for critter food, bleach, and cherry pie. Plus a $100 worth of other stuff. My larder is stocked. All I’m missing now is hamburger which I may or may not pursue.
I worked from home today. It was a weird workday. I started at roughly 7 a.m. instead of my usual 9:30 a.m. I roared through email (there isn’t much at 7 a.m., but more than you would think) and then did the dishes so as to clear the kitchen table. I moved the laptop to the table and spread out my work materials. It was time to descend into the bowels of my organization’s webpage. I always get a bit nervous when tweaking the webpage. It’s a wonderful webpage, professionally designed, and it’s beyond my skill level to maintain. Every change provokes prayer.
At 11 or so, I started ruffling around for something to eat. The first snack of many. I called my boss to see if she missed me. (She didn’t.) I spoke with a co-worker. Called my mother. Worked on some photo editing. Rinse and repeat. That was my day prior to the Kroger.
I ventured out at 4 pm. I was surprised, but not really, by the number of people out and about. The Kroger looked like a war zone. I noticed the absence of background music. There is no soundtrack to the apocalypse.
Post-Kroger, I have a kitchen full of work materials and groceries. I have too much food for my available storage. I generally do my shopping for at most a week ahead of time and usually not even that. Then there’s the fact that I have enough for three meals a day instead of the usual one and a half. There’s food everywhere. Three (3!) pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream almost didn’t fit into the freezer.
I need to find a rhythm to this new life. Right now, I still feel as if I’m waiting for the shoe to drop. I thought that feeling would occur when they finally diagnosed a case here. But, well, nope. There’s still free-floating anxiety. Oh, and cherry pie.