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Rated: E · Chapter · Biographical · #2222103
Staying inside for months.
I think I’ve been looking out this peephole a long, long time. When is the guy gonna show up? The waits had become longer lately and you could only hope to get some of what you requested in the que. Sadly, I had underestimated the length of time we would be locked in. Foolish, I thought to myself. I would try to remember better next pandemic. Ugh. If we get through this one. Pandemic.
Just 7 days ago they were avoiding the word... now its blaring from the pores of the internet. Some bat-flu invading the human species that sent us into our homes and now are locked in for the next 30 days. I am on day 15 self quarantine myself, I teach piano lessons and forced my students out the door and online two weeks ago. I was certain the kids thought I was being paranoid but within days schools are closed here in Wisconsin and all the classrooms are bare. We are out for the summer but, Its only March. Pandemic. Children are carriers but seldom die...so far. I cant read the actual paper anymore.. Paper carry virus. So much we have learned.
I walk away from the door and fill my coffee cup, I have three creamers left and then I am gonna be living without. I

hope the delivery guy brings butter and cream. I can dream.
I fill my coffee cup and wander back to the front of the house. My little crew.. 5 chihuahuas I rescued...follow me from room to room like happy kittens. Sweetness and such good company during my weeks of personal isolation...could be months.
I go back to the peephole...Suddenly I see two cars pull up like clockwork... one person jumps out of each car and they bring recycled boxes full of foodstuffs to my door. Both wearing masks and working with the speed of youth. They are getting paid $2 more per hour during this time. I have left a $25 gas card hanging on the door for them. I heard it helps to tip them well if you want fresh produce, like ever. Worth a try.. Besides my car has a full tank of gas and I wont be doing anywhere soon.
The food minions leave the boxes, wave goodbye through the glass door and drive off. I think they do it in pairs now to avoid being robbed for foodstuff. Food is more valuable than money these days. I repent my casual regard for bananas... I truly miss them now.
So lets see what I have received today.. I say a little hopeful prayer for butter.
I don examination gloves, my outdoor shoes and surgical mask to step outside to bring in my parcels. These are strange times. We are afraid of surfaces, all surfaces. I may never touch anything outside my house again. It has all of us on edge. An enemy I cannot see, such a scary thought...my daily reality. Music school did not prepare me for this.

I have to carry the 3 boxes straight through the house, not stopping until I am on my back porch boxes are not allowed in the house. Virus lives on surfaces. I deconstruct each box and bag leaving all the waste on the porch, I am collecting all the cardboard in the garage to deal with after the pandemic. After? Will there be an after.
Finally I have a clear view of my newly cleaned and disinfected items.
2 can tuna, 3 cans of beans 1 lb of butter, two packages of Brussel sprouts, 3 gallons of milk and hot dog buns and a loaf of bread. I should not complain- cause, well, butter. But how I miss fresh tomatoes as long as I live after this I will give them due respect. Sigh. I add these to the other items I have been gathering for weeks. I was pretty well prepared for a piano teacher I say. I had a feeling a ways back.
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