On-line groceries

On February 16, I have my second Pfizer Covid-19 vaccine shot.  Two weeks later, on March 2, I will be as immune from the virus as it's possible for me to be under today's medical knowledge.  

Will life then be normal again, as it was the last time the calendar reached March 2?  That remains to be seen.  Pundits insist that the "old normal" is gone for ever.  To insist otherwise is like yearning to drive again a 1955 Buick Roadmaster, powered with 29.9 cents per gallon gasoline.  You can't flounder around in the same river twice, and all that.

What about grocery shopping for example?  A year ago, I ate breakfast out about four times a week, in a semi-fast food establishment next door to a Safeway.  Did I need any groceries?  If so, after breakfast I'd make a stop at Safeway to pick up a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk.  And, once inside, anything else that attracted my attention.

Now?  Not so much.  I seem to lose my appetite when shopping in a potential cloud of viruses.  I know, I know.  Most experts say that grocery shopping is safe if you wear a mask and complete your purchases in fifteen minutes.  But I'm not sold on my mask as a total defense against viruses; I'm leery of the presence of others who unexpectedly do not wear masks; and I suspect there are a lot of unresolved questions about the effect of viruses borne by aerosols.  And I can't always get in and out of the store in fifteen minutes.

So as early as last March, I adopted the practice of on-line shopping.  Once a week I make a list of what I'll need in the coming week and spend a quarter hour or so clicking in my order on-line and paying for it on my Visa card.  Then, at the chosen time and date, I drive to Safeway -- a different one, about a ten-minute drive on I-5 from my house, up on N.E. 74th.  I telephone a number to announce my presence, click the lever to pop my trunk, and then -- quite promptly -- my week's shopping is brought out to the car and loaded in my trunk.  And I'm off.  No human contact at all, aside from a friendly wave.

Am I anxious to return to the old normal?  Not really.  This system is pretty sweet.  When she was 85, my writer-heroine Ursula Le Guin lamented (1) her failure to ever get a driver's license, and (2) her increased inability to walk long distances free from sciatic pain.  She had to walk several blocks to the nearest grocery.  She could do it, but she couldn't just dash down to the grocery every time she ran out of bread.

I've had to go back to the routine of my childhood, when we did the shopping once a week.  No running down to see what looks fresh and good for dinner or to pick up a quart of milk -- everything has to be planned ahead and written down.  If you don't get the cat litter on Tuesday, well, you don't have any cat litter till next Tuesday, and the cat may have some questions for you.

Exactly, but it doesn't bother me.  Maybe it would bother me if, like Ursula, I were physically incapable of making a fast trip to the store.  I would miss my ability to choose.  But nothing limits me to one shopping trip per week.  It's just a bit of a hassle, and when I order on-line I naturally think ahead less fuzzily than I do when wandering the aisles of the store after enjoying a full breakfast.  I prefer limiting myself to one shopping trip a week.  Making my weekly shopping list for on-line shopping imposes a certain amount of organization on my generally disorganized life.

It's rather satisfying.  I like it.

So when March 2 arrives, I will welcome the return to many forms of "normalcy." -- like feeling safe once again to travel by train or plane, for example.  But -- if Safeway continues to allow me to buy groceries on-line indefinitely, without service charge, I will happily do so.

I always hate being forced to change my routines -- but not all changes turn our badly.