Why not sleep late when there is not much to get up for except a day like a day before? Last night I slept for about nine hours, a record for me. My big morning excursion thus far, a trip to the supermarket to stock the house with food for the next few days.
All the shoppers had masks and most had gloves. One man had a t-shirt wrapped around his face. Some of the supermarket workers who were stocking the shelves wore masks, but not all did. Each time I go out I take additional precautions. After throwing away the nitrile gloves I wore in the store, I put on a new pair of gloves to unload the groceries. A first.
It does feel like every day has a sameness. This is particularly true because I am only working part-time, so I spend a good deal of the rest of my day, reading the news, going through email, cleaning the house and cooking. So each day has a kind of rinse, dry and repeat.
My allergies are particularly bad today so I was trying not to start sneezing under my mask at the supermarket, fearing some kind of shunning in the vegetable aisle.
I used the self-checkout machines to avoid having a cashier touch my food with the same dirty gloves used for the past twenty customers. My Harris Teeter store has closed down every other self-checkout machine for social distancing. It made a weird tableau with five of the nine machines closed. Luckily the store was not too busy.
And what’s going on with cleaning supplies, paper towels, and toilet paper? Harris Teeter had every other section of the store fully stocked. Do you want fresh kale? No problem. But if you want dish soap or paper towels you are out of luck. And don’t even ask about toilet paper because there is none.
So there are no more Saturdays or Sundays. Every day is today.