Toilet paper rush
Three weeks ago, I was enjoying a perfectly relaxing week- long visit with my sister in Bunkerville, Nevada, taking road trips to Zions National Park by day and watching romantic comedies by night.
Somewhere between the time I left and the time I returned, the world entered toilet paper buying pandemonium. I returned home to empty shelves in the supermarkets.
I’ve been a scrapper most of my life, so this is just a little something to be figured out. No worries.
That night on the way home from the airport I thought, “Huh? No toilet paper on the shelves. I’ll just buy me a bit of bartering power instead.”
So, while the rest of the world rushed home with toilet paper, flour and sanitizer, I came home with the leftovers: a 50 pound bag of potatoes, a giant pack of salami and a toilet-paper-bartering-sized-bag of chocolate.
I settled into my work chair watching spring arrive in Newberg from my desk.
I watched as a creative world unleashed a barrage of hilarious memes and dances and homeschooling woes. I felt gratitude for the people working around the world to keep things going. I felt the heaviness for all the loss. The lives and jobs and hopes and dreams.
The effects of this virus will ripple out for years to come, and I feel hope as I see the world come together to help one another. I also feel the weight of loneliness for so many working through intense grief, loss and uncertainty.
Three weeks have passed, and the toilet paper cupboard in the bathroom is looking like my bartering may need to begin soon.
However, I have a problem.
I have eaten my chocolate.
The whole blinking paper bagful.
It is evident that in these stressful times, I took it upon myself to emotionally eat on behalf of everyone who has been feeling the stress of a world-wide pandemic.
I’ve got your back people.
With compassion, I have eaten all of my bartering goods.
I hope you have felt my love for you...and that Fred Meyer gets a new shipment of toilet paper soon.
Thinking of you and hoping you are well!
Deb