As I thought about what to write here today, that phrase came to mind. It's a fair description of how I'm doing and how I see the world outside my door doing as the days and weeks of the COVID-19 siege drag on. Though it is clear that the restrictions are having a positive impact, we're told again and again that this is far from over, that our efforts to stay home and to maintain physical distance when we must go out cannot be slackened and there is no sure end date in sight.
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| Sophie says, "Harumph!" |
I had a small fit of rebellion yesterday. Fed up with online grocery shopping and suffering from cabin fever, I jumped in the car and drove to a grocery store for the first time in over three weeks. I chose my merchant carefully - not a warehouse, not a large chain, but a trusted store that had its beginnings as a fresh fruit and vegetable stand. I hummed and sang my way along the fifteen-minute drive, thrilled by my escape from the house, thrilled to be going grocery shopping.
It felt odd to walk across the parking lot emptyhanded, without my own cloth produce and shopping bags. It felt wrong. My balloon of jubilant expectation began losing air. Undaunted I donned the gloves offered by the attendant and wheeled my disinfected cart into the store. Unease crept up my back as I sensed someone behind me. I turned my head around to check that he was at least two metres behind me. The young man smiled as he said, No rush. Take your time."
List in hand I plodded on pleased to see that for the most part, shelves were well-stocked. But now, of course, there are traffic rules in grocery stores large and small, one-way aisles marked in bright yellow that ought to be followed. In the produce area, traffic flow was less than orderly and I felt a kind of paranoia settling in...
Oh god, there's someone creeping up behind me! She's coming way too close!
What's that guy doing coming over here?
Why is that woman touching all the red peppers and putting them back?
Who just coughed?!
My body in an alert mode now, I navigated my way through the store like a cop clearing a building. I got most of what was on my list or was able to make acceptable substitutions. From that point of view, the excursion was a success. All the staff was very pleasant and helpful. BUT - It was not fun.
Back in my car, feeling safe and secure, I thought how absolutely bizarre that whole experience had been, how very abnormal my reaction was on a simple ordinary grocery shopping trip in extraordinary times. Will I go again? Probably, but not for ten days or so, and next time I will be better prepared for the adventure. I will know what to expect. In the meantime, I'm hanging in!
And I'm hanging out like these winter survivors still clinging to trees and vines in the forest:
©2020 April Hoeller
It felt odd to walk across the parking lot emptyhanded, without my own cloth produce and shopping bags. It felt wrong. My balloon of jubilant expectation began losing air. Undaunted I donned the gloves offered by the attendant and wheeled my disinfected cart into the store. Unease crept up my back as I sensed someone behind me. I turned my head around to check that he was at least two metres behind me. The young man smiled as he said, No rush. Take your time."
List in hand I plodded on pleased to see that for the most part, shelves were well-stocked. But now, of course, there are traffic rules in grocery stores large and small, one-way aisles marked in bright yellow that ought to be followed. In the produce area, traffic flow was less than orderly and I felt a kind of paranoia settling in...
Oh god, there's someone creeping up behind me! She's coming way too close!
What's that guy doing coming over here?
Why is that woman touching all the red peppers and putting them back?
Who just coughed?!
My body in an alert mode now, I navigated my way through the store like a cop clearing a building. I got most of what was on my list or was able to make acceptable substitutions. From that point of view, the excursion was a success. All the staff was very pleasant and helpful. BUT - It was not fun.
Back in my car, feeling safe and secure, I thought how absolutely bizarre that whole experience had been, how very abnormal my reaction was on a simple ordinary grocery shopping trip in extraordinary times. Will I go again? Probably, but not for ten days or so, and next time I will be better prepared for the adventure. I will know what to expect. In the meantime, I'm hanging in!
And I'm hanging out like these winter survivors still clinging to trees and vines in the forest:
Take Care.
Be well.
Be safe at Home.
©2020 April Hoeller
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