Meijer and the art of pandemic war

I know what you're thinking...

"more "empty-shelves-at-a-grocery-store" pics? *yawn*"

NOPE! 

well, maybe one... zoom in on that 10 for $10 sale sign, go ahead, I'll wait...

I promise you, I sly-scanned every cart that came within the decreed "that's close enough" 6 feet of me, but I could not find Mr(s). Broccoli Crown Hoarder.

however, zoom in a bit more, see white-stripe joggers dude? he is what we call in the Pandemic Insanity biz, "amateur." you come to the superstore to play hoarder hardball and you pre-fill one cart with humans?! *riotous laughter that ends with COVID-19 wheeze*

unlike the amateur superstore shoppers, I had a plan, a list, and an empty cart. #PandemicAftermath101 

here's my list:
protein food
dairy food
produce food

my list is so brilliant, even Sun Tzu would be impressed! that list is the epitome of a couple of massively important war concepts: 
war plan vs. realities of war
premise of adaptation aka, rolling-with-the-punches

clearly I took that pic in the superstore's produce section, and when a quick google search for "citron turnip breadfruit recipes" came back with zilch, *agape shock!* I moved on to the top of my list, protein food.

I turn the corner from produce area into meat section, I stop, and utter this word, "keto."

suddenly all of southeast MI is keto?! I'm staring at the only package of beef stomach tripe, I can't help but wonder; were there more tripes? I envision a multi-Meijer-Crazies tripe fight, but then in my IRL peripheral vision, I see a broken jar of pigs feet on the floor with it's protective yellow "slippery when wet" cone guarding the kinda-sorta-homicidal scene. 

wincing, I type in google's search field, how to cook... I mutter, "and not vomit,"
t-r-i-- I can't do it. I completely wuss-out on a google search. now-- now I'm feeling it. that feeling of panic, the "what's for dinner?!" discomfort/inner-dread. 

I remind myself that 2 out of 3 foods on my brilliant list were fails. I MUST come through in the dairy section. I'm not walking anymore, I'm fast-walking. the clickety-clack of that bad front wheel on the cart is whirring an urgent hum; daaaaaaiiiirrrrryyyyyy!

I skid to a stop in front of that massive wall of refrigerator doors-- 

side note: as I think back on it, I should've tilted the camera to my face and taken a "how-do-I-bring-home-6-pint-bottles-of-buttermilk-to-my-loved-ones" selfie. #onedayyoulllookbackandlaughmoment

my empty cart's wheel is just annoying-squeaking now as I crumple my stupid, unbrilliant list in my hand. 

still, there's a tiny part of me that refuses to give in; even as I walk passed aisle after empty aisle. I refuse to be beaten by the lack of google's recipe genius! I refuse to believe that I have to put stomach into my... stomach(!), and I refuse to believe that Sun Tzu didn't prepare me for everything war could throw my way.

two marauders "rushed" Meijer customers force me to swerve to the right, and at that moment a light went on.💡no, seriously. no metaphor, the sensor light behind the frozen food door flickered on. 

but-- that's when the metaphorical lightbulb flipped on in my head. this time I did raise my camera and took these pics while muttering...

"fruit pies. produce food."


"peanut butter ice cream. protein food."


and then, I glanced to my right, and the rest of the wall of frozen-miracles lit up. in awe, I whispered: "multi-colored, artificial-flavored ice cream. dairy food!"

it was as if Sun Tzu guided me to a rainbow, symbolic with a promise that I wouldn't lose this hoarder's battle, that it will all workout. 

well, eating that much ice cream means I'll have to workout, but hey, this is war!