The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 44

Pandemic Grocery Shopping: A Battle Strategy

You may realize, if you have been reading this blog all along, that I already wrote a Grocery Shopping for Dummies episode. But that was when I was young and naive and thought I might someday need to fill up the gas tank. Ever. That was a month ago, a decade's worth of "dunnodays" followed by "whateverdays" and bookended by "ughdays." Now, we are on day 44 of this shelter-in-place, and I am 102 years old, and I have learned to spot a Shipt shopper from 3 aisles away.

So, if you need to go to a big box store because you are out of cone coffee filters that aren't sold at Rite Aid or Aldi or Monticello's or any other place that doesn't feel like a giant petri dish, here are some pointers that might help you preserve your sanity.

1. Start at the homegoods side and end in produce. This is key: you are going to fill your cart to max capacity and you do not want the tomatoes and strawberries to be sauced at the bottom of the cart. Instead, line the bottom of your cart with an even layer of toothpaste and soap and shampoo. This will add stability to your cart load, and ensure that the tower that you will build as your shop will not tip over and topple into the empty meat counter. Think: grocery store lasagna. 
2. Are you excited that you can now finally plant that garden, now that the evil governor has allowed garden centers to reopen? You have been waiting for this moment for AT LEAST a week or two. (Seriously: it's Michigan. It snowed last week. Dial it back.) Well, when you rush that garden center for seeds because this is the year that you are going to FEED THE WORLD with your Jiffy peat pods, please know that there will be no tomato seeds there. Or peas. Or beans. Or squash. There will only be radishes. SO MANY RADISHES. Check back in September, when I will post about all of the things you can do with radishes. Yum. 

   

   Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

3. Toilet paper? Yes. Also, dishwasher soap and laundry detergent. You're welcome.
4.  The baking aisle will be too cluttered to pass through. You will need to buy flour and seasoned salt and some cake mix, but it is impossible to stay 6 feet apart from anyone in the baking aisle, because every person in the store has gathered in this aisle and will be searching, aimlessly, for yeast. It's best to park your cart at the end of the aisle, adjust your face mask, and then tip-toe like Elmer Fudd in search of that wascally wabbit. It's survival of the fittest in the baking aisle. 
5. Stay away from the potato chips. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Have you tried on your jeans? Seriously. You don't need potato chips. Also, crackers, popcorn, mixed nuts, M&Ms, and chips that pretend they aren't chips, but really are. (I'm looking at you, Popchips.)
6. Have you made it to the liquor aisle? You should buy it. Does it seem excessive? It's not. It's really better to err on the side of caution. Make sure you lift with your legs.
7. Also, cheese.
8. Frozen foods are tricky. On the one hand, you can stock up. On the other hand, you have a small freezer. Plan in terms of size of frozen food square footage, not in terms of meal possibilities. You've given up on actually cooking thoughtful meals at this point and are perfectly content putting instant mashed potatoes, frozen peas, a bag of spinach, and some cheese sticks on the table and calling it dinner. Just buy some frozen pizzas and some tots and call it good. You are not going to cook a balanced meal with what's in your cart. Maybe just buy some more cheese.
9. If you need to buy meat, just buy whatever's left. There's not much to choose from, but that's okay. You have cake mix and vodka and radish seeds. You'll be fine.
10. If you finally make it to produce, congratulations! You are almost home. Your radish-seed-and-soap grocery cart lasagna is almost complete. Buy the hardest avocados you can find because you have all the time in the world for them to ripen. You're not going anywhere anytime soon. Buy some hummus, because it won't roll off the top of your mountain of groceries (I'm looking at you, spaghetti squash) and buy some romaine because it layers nicely, and buy some strawberries because your kids want to pretend that they are eating nutella as a condiment and not as a main course.
11. Finally, you are at the checkout. Because you have to stay 6 feet apart and there are 12 people in every line, you are now backed up in women's lingerie. Do not cave and buy a bra or 3 because they might fit. They won't. I promise. Also, don't buy that clearance sweater, those Columbia leggings, or those 50% off jeans. They won't fit because you have put on 15 lbs, and you don't need them because you have nowhere to go. And they won't sell on Poshmark 6 months from now, because everyone else in the nation will be trying to sell them, too. 3 hours later, you will finally get to checkout and go home. Try not to eat that candy bar you impulse-bought for the kids while you waited.

If you have finally checked out and made it to the parking lot, you are almost home free. Drive home. Unload those groceries. Take off your face mask. Wash your hands. Pour yourself a drink. It really doesn't matter what time it is. Those social rules are dead to us. Eat some cheese. Take a nap. You have survived the fight, stocked your fridge, and figured out how to feed your family for another week. You are Rocky at the top of the steps. You are the Karate Kid, standing on one foot, victorious. You are Kerri Strug after your final vault. You are Frodo, throwing the ring into the fires of Mount Doom. You have survived Meijer and you have not only endured--YOU HAVE PREVAILED.