When I was little, my parents occasionally took the family for a trip to see relatives, who lived about 4 hours away. I was good for about an hour of the trip, after which time I pestered them endlessly about when we would arrive. Flash foward several decades and a pandemic later, and I find myself once again inpatiently asking if we’re there yet.
According to just about everyone, the pandemic has yet to peak in North America. Canadians have the dubious honour of sharing the longest undefended border with a country which now has the most cases of Co-Vid 19, and whose leader is a moron who makes his highly respected medical expert do face-palms at press conferences. And, if that’s not bad enough, we are seeing snowbirds (Canadians who go south in the winter) return en masse, possibly bringing co-vid 19 with them.
The first casualty in the co-vid 19 pandemic was toilet paper, followed by paper towels, followed by hand sanitizer, followed by flour, followed by pasta, and most recently, frozen veggies. (Those with freezers emptied out the meat counter, so I assume that we won’t see them again for some time, unless they need more t.p. ) As someone educated in psychology and whose career was in the field for some 20 years, I find human behaviour fascinating, particularly when the instinct for survival kicks in. And God knows we need an abundance of toilet paper to survive–apparently more than we need food. (Personally, I like using wet wipes; they’re cleaner, and while everyone was running around looking for t.p. I stealthily stocked up on Pampers wet wipes, my favourite.)
Right now I have a freezer full of food, a pantry full of canned good and pasta, a nice stockpile of wet wipes, and enough wine, beer, and “99” (Canadian Irish cream; it’s delish) to last me at least a month (well, maybe not the booze; I might need to restock that sooner.)
In the meantime, stay safe everyone. And may your dreams (and supermarkets) be filled with toilet paper.