When going to the grocery store is the week’s highlight
I used to treat a trip to the grocery store like an onerous task. “Oh no, I have to stop and pick up a few things.” Now it’s the high point of my week. I include the pharmacy and, of course, the liquor store whenever I go out and try to limit my trips to once every seven days to avoid contact with the coronavirus.
I was at Trader Joe’s in Danbury a few days ago. They have a most sane approach. T J’s only allows so many people in the store at once and the rest of us form a line outside. They have marked the pavement every 6 feet so we all know where to stand. I got in after 15 minutes and just whisked through my shopping. With my usual list, I was out in another 15 minutes and could tell the woman who was first in line, “Okay, you can go in now.” She laughed, “Oh thank you and your beautiful orchid!”
None of us knows how long this shelterin-place, keep-your-distance thing will go on. My husband, Jim, had two N95 masks he bought a long time ago for doing woodwork. The part that goes around our heads was useless. So I took elastic, sewed it on and am much happier having my ears hold the thing on. We use the latex gloves, that I thought I bought for dying my roots, whenever we go anyplace where we might have contact with others.
I could really use a haircut, but so could a lot of folks. I would love to have friends over and wine and dine them. I miss my fellow gym rats. I planned to have most of the first floor of my home painted, but had to put it off.
And yet, I feel terrible for the people who have had to live on their earnings. What do they do now? The $1,200 the government gives out won’t cover much. Will homelessness become the new normal? I worry that, without financial support, there will be suicides. What does one do with a family to support and no way to earn a living?
There are ways we can give assistance — donate blood, money, groceries. These will help and help us feel effective. It’s like the 7 o’clock ritual in New York City where a lot of people throw open their windows and clap for, yell for, the people who are putting their lives at risk for us. It’s a symbol of how much we need to be useful.
And it will have to do for now.