Pandemic Journal - Day 38 (The Descent Into Madness)

Yesterday, I ventured out.

Having not been out much since March 13, except for car rides to look at lovely landscapes, it felt freeing to go riding down the interstate and into the city.

The purpose was to finish up my husband's retirement paperwork. When I last wrote, I had not planned to go. My husband had said I wouldn't be allowed in the building. He would bring home papers I needed to sign, and then we would have to find a notary.

When he came in to ready for his appointment, he wondered if they would let us in the building one at a time. Could he finish his paperwork and then have me go up and sign what I needed to sign, so we wouldn't have to seek out a notary?

He suggested I go with him to find out. "Get out of the house for a while, anyway," he said. I put on a little eye shadow and mascara - since I would be wearing a mask I saw no need to do more - and we hopped in the car.

We made a stop prior to going into the city that I will save for another post. Then we went to the municipal building. He donned his mask and went inside.

I sat. And sat. I hit the electric button to turn on the air but it doesn't get cold without the engine on, and you can't turn the engine on without hitting the brake pedal in my car and I was on the passenger side, so I rolled down the window.

The city was quiet, but a few people walked by. Not a one moved away from the car. When I realized they were going to pass close to me, I rolled up the window, or else grabbed my mask and donned it as they went by.

One woman called me a "fucking bitch" as she walked past me, I guess because she saw me putting the window up. She passed within a foot of me. What else was I supposed to do?

I amused myself for a time watching two young teenagers using their skateboard on the circuit courthouse steps. They were filming each other as they took long jumps off the steps onto the sidewalk.  I kept waiting for one of them to fall and break a leg, but neither missed badly enough for that. Finally, an adult told them to stop and they vanished.

My husband appeared along with someone from the finance office. She notarized my paperwork by the car. And just like that, my old fella was officially retired from the fire department.

There should have at least been a fire truck to send him off, but these are strange times.

Then we went to Sam's Club. My husband left me in the car again as he donned his mask and trekked inside. He bought some of what we needed, although apparently there is not a piece of paper (towels, tissue, or toilet paper) left anywhere in the valley. We are not yet in dire need of toilet tissue but an extra four-pack would have been nice. Oh well.

I watched folks go in and out of the store. I noticed a strong lack of children, which was probably good. It felt a bit like playing Skyrim, which is a video game that has a lot of AI presence but only a few children in it. Many people wore masks, but many did not. I thought more women then men wore masks. Perhaps it is not manly to wear a mask, although my manly man doesn't mind it a bit as he values his life more than his pride.

Once my husband returned to the car and unloaded his purchases, we set off again. This next stop involved me. We went to Food Lion. I had his mother's grocery list and he had ours. We both donned masks and gloves, and went into the maw of the zombie den.

And it truly was like being in a zombie video game. Some people had on masks, others didn't. People were rude, simply shoving carts out of their way. They did not hesitate to step close to you and few gave you distance. I don't know how many times I moved to get away from people. Lots, judging by the steps on my Fitbit.

The entire place seethed with anger, fear, and frustration. It was so strong, you could smell it and I certainly felt it. People looked beaten and mad. The only thing missing from my zombie video game was a noise in the background going, "I want brains. Must have brains."

I felt terror being in there, shopping amongst my neighbors. I think the last time I felt that so strongly was after 9/11. People were terrified and angry then, too.

Food Lion had no paper products and no cleaning products, both of which were on my mother-in-law's list. I decided I would give her my emergency toilet paper package and an extra can of Lysol I had, even though it was not the scent she wanted. I finished gathering her items and then helped my husband with our list.

It was a madhouse even trying to leave. No one left you space at the cash registers. I felt hemmed in by people who should have been far away from me. I was grateful I had on a very good mask even if it was fogging my glasses and giving me a bit of claustrophobia. I wouldn't dare go into a grocery store without a mask after seeing that craziness in there yesterday.

My friend in England tells me her stores have set up one-way routes up and down the aisles, with tape on the floor so people know where to stay six feet back, and they are doing exactly that. God forbid we be that civilized here. No, we have to shove carts out of the way and reach over top of people for fear that we won't get the last remaining item on the shelf even though there are plenty of them there (except for the paper items and there wasn't even any use going down that aisle).

We came home and unloaded our groceries first - my husband didn't want his ice cream to melt - and I handed him my toilet paper and the Lysol to take to his mother. Then, while he went to his mother's to unload her groceries, I wiped our purchases down and put them away. It was a relief to return to the relative quiet of my little hobbit house.

At least here I feel calm and sane.

Out there, in the world, lies madness.

Brains, indeed.