so, i got the things i need done for the next roughly two weeks. i can now gorge myself and rest my weary body, after nine hours of walking and hauling around groceries.
i didn't go out on day one and buy out the store, but i've been slowly building up supplies of things over what is now two months of hermitting. yes, there's the four packages of toilet paper, but i actually would normally have two-three on hand anyways. i'm actually lower on pasta than usual; under normal circumstances, i like to have about 36 days worth in tupperware.
hey, i've been in the situation of it being the first of the month and trying to figure something out. it's easier if there's already food, so i don't fuck around when it comes to that - there's certain things i keep a surplus of, and some of it is dwindling more than i'd like. i should be ok for the rest of the month at least, before i crack and have to buy some of that cracked-out pasta, you know the kind with the weird swirls and shit, like it's trying to find an algebraic solution to your mother in law's nasty cooking, but is instead just spiraling out on means that it thought were golden, but are merely just pasty brown.
anyways.
i've now slowly squirreled away oddities such as four tubes of toothpaste, an entire fridge door worth of block cheese, three red hot sauces, three cans of coffee and who knows what else shuffled away on to the side. let us hope that this is the last nine hour day; let's hope i can just sneak out for some tomatoes, moving forward. my legs can only handle so much...
these days, though, are such total body exercises, they really are - you're walking, you're lifting, you're hauling for miles. you feel it in your calves, but this has to be hitting you everywhere. which is fine - i don't want to build muscle, but i'm happy to tone what i've got.
i need, however, to inform you that this whole "social distancing" thing is a charade. it is - it's absurd. whatever the merits of it's intentions were, what actually exists, what is really existing social distancing, is just nonsense, unfit to even display the label of whatever delusion, whatever pseudo-science, that may have birthed it.
you will begin this charade outside of the store, where people will smoke various things, while talking loudly to themselves, rarely more than a few inches from each other. if you have the audacity to inch ahead of them, they will take it as an invitation to move ahead in line, entirely oblivious as to why they're outside in the fucking first place. and, who are these people, exactly? my experience today was to be stuck in line between two absolutely hideously disgusting bearded men who were essentially transiting toilets on their faces not once but twice, none of whom seemed to understand basic personal space by somebody that was visibly disgusted by them, let alone what social distancing was or why they were outside. one of them repeatedly spat through his beard while standing in line.
under normal circumstances, i would not have gone within ten feet of these people, let alone six. but, because of the rules, i was forced against my will to stand in line with them for a period of time i would generally not have tolerated. i repeatedly felt more in danger of getting sick standing in line than i did once i was in the store, in addition to needing to suppress the need to vomit for being forced to tolerate them. yuck.
then, once you're in the store, nobody even cares anymore. people walk by each other, cough all over each other, make like bad zeppelin records and go down the wrong aisle, etc. you think you're in line for a real tight-ass establishment, but you get inside and it's like an insane class posse show.
they've got these plexi-glass windows installed to try to create a spit barrier, and it's maybe the most grounded idea i've seen yet, but it's like the cone of silence - the cashiers can't hear anything behind them, so they just poke their heads over to talk to you, as you're keying in your atm number on the device that thousands of people had already used just that day.
and, then, you're off to leave your cart with the attendant, who touches every single one of them when he sanitizes them entirely haphazardly, between smoke breaks.
a charade.
it's all it is.
get ready for this thing, canada. your puny social distancing does nothing.