A good portion of the last ten or so years of my life have been spent in the grocery store; my blessed elderly parents have never been quite organized enough to put everything on a weekly list. They always forgot something, and usually, a lot of things, so until very recently, I was in the grocery store three or four times every week. Which is to say, I came to hate grocery shopping with a passion.
Then, wonder of wonders, they invented the grocery delivery service: I love it, and most of the time, the groceries arrive withing an hour or two. Except today. I put in an order that won’t arrive until Tuesday afternoon, because of all the panic over corona virus. So, I went to the grocery store this evening to pick up a couple of things that couldn’t wait until Tuesday: I was there late, so I missed the crowds that had earlier ransacked the place. LOL π



Yikes! Glad you avoided the Vandal hordes.
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me too π
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That ‘fad’ has hit here too, or so I am told. Thankfully it has not yet reached our semi-remote ville in the foothills of the Himalayas.
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I hesitated to go into the grocery store at 8 pm tonight when it was pretty much empty; an evil part of me considered the possibility of telling my mother that she would have to drink cranberry juice for breakfast instead of OJ until the groceries are delivered on Tuesday. But the good part of me won out.
If the grocery store had been mobbed, the good part of me would not have won out.
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One may simply ignore all of that chaos by only dining in restaurants.
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Sure, but that’s another thing: they are telling us to avoid restaurants. The bars in South Boston actually all closed down, because somebody-not sure who-was afraid of spreading the virus.
On another note, Harrison Ford was spotted in a local Thai Restaurant today or yesterday; he has a son who attends Amherst College, and the owner thanked him for coming into his otherwise empty restaurant during the virus.
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My only fear is dying.
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I feel like I am missing something, like I am having a blonde moment and making a blonde comment. I don’t get your comment, or, to be more accurate, I don’t get how it relates, and maybe it isn’t supposed to? And that is totally cool, but I don’t get it π
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In other words, I fear grocery shopping more than restaurants.
How copy, Blondie -over?
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LOL π Solid Copy, I feel exactly the same way π
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“I feel like I am missing something, like I am having a blonde moment and making a blonde comment.”
Et tu, Brute? π π π
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Lol π sorry, Liz, my hair gets blonde highlights in the sun, though, so I was kind of talking about myself too. Kind of π
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