Dear Diary …
Quarantine. Day whatever the heck. I lost count. And I just mean of the days in general. Is this Tuesday? Am I supposed to be angry today? Every day feels like Tuesday, so does it even matter? Oh who the heck even knows anymore.
I just can’t believe that I’m going to be the generation that gathers round the grandchildren and says, “Kids, did you know that when I was a boy, you used to be able to go to the grocery store and just … BUY toilet paper? Oh the wonders of the aisle children … all different sizes, brands, selections … it was a glorious time in American history … the great TP bounty of the early 2000’s.”
At this rate I figure that’s where it’s going, because I don’t think it’s ever gonna be in stock again. Hasn’t everyone that’s hoarded it already gotten their fill?
You know … I used to enjoy grocery shopping. Walk down the aisles. Look at the merchandise. Find great deals. Decide what to make for the family. Now … it’s like I’m braving the seven gates of hell just to get a box of cereal and some coffee creamer.
And the best part? Now when you get home, you gotta spend another 30 minutes wiping down each and every grocery, throwing out the bags, washing the counter, and then washing your hands for the 247th time that day. “Don’t forget to sing Happy Birthday two times!” Good lord … we all sound like a bunch of lunatics singing “Happy Birthday” over and over again like a deranged mental patient.
And let me just add … I don’t know how families any bigger than four can preserve their sanity. I feel like I have it somewhat in check when there’s four of us in the house, but now I’ve got my mother-in-law trapped in quarantine for God knows how long and we’re basically running out of something every day. And as you can imagine … I don’t wanna just “pop down to Hades” just to grab some more chips and salsa.
And you can never plan properly. We had a full loaf of bread yesterday, then all of a sudden everybody decided they just HAD to have cinnamon toast. So then we’re instantly out of bread and I gotta put on my hazmat suit and get my machete from under the bed to go find a loaf of Sara Lee.
Geez … who knew I’d long for the good ol’ days of a regular snowstorm chaos trip to the grocery store?
Is any of this even making sense? Probably not. But what else you gonna do right now????
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.