These days, each time I step out to buy groceries, I feel in touch with my own mortality. No amount of Vitamin C, hand-washing and disinfecting stuff will likely save me from the people who are carrying on like nothing has changed in the world. Social distancing is not a concept they appear to agree with or are willing to accept as a lifestyle choice it seems. I am the one making haste to get the hell out of everyone's way, skipping entire aisles or going all the way around to come from the other side if my need for pasta is that dire. No one even notices that I am jumpy and really trying hard to keep distance. It's not relevant to them - people to weird, random shit. This woman is just odd. Often I just cross items out from the list because the acrobatics of arriving at the shelf where I can find the thing I need is too risky. I have to get close to people within a feet of me multiple times.
The way I see it, after those many encounters with people who are possibly asymptomatic carriers, I would need to focus more on staying out of the hospital and less on cooking that gnocchi I battled so hard to pick up. The math is too stark to leave room for doubt or confusion. Consequently, it has taken upto three trips to procure supplies "safely" when if all people around me were rational actors, worried about their own health and well-being, could have been accomplished in one. Upon my return, I have to clean everything I touched and promptly take a warm shower. Each day that passes after that, family and friends report someone they know is ill - the symptoms range from mild to bad. Each time I hear these accounts, I am thinking to myself that could be me one of these days because I had to go to the grocery store and was surrounded by people who clearly feel rather immortal.
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