Meijer and the what if—?! panic

living in COVID-19 Michigan means the quarantine-life has been going on for 40 days, and we get to look forward to (at least) 20 more. 

I've decided to play by the rules on this one-- not my typical adventurous, devil-may-care attitude, mostly because I keep getting this image in my head...

 
that's me, a knife at my throat and COVID-19 screaming-- "never go against a pandemic when death is on the line!" *maniacal laughter*

so, once every 10 days I take my SUV (gas tank still 7/8 full--40 days!!!) to the superstore to restock groceries and other necessities. I choose Meijer for the mostly-reliable one-stop shopping, or as we like to say in Michigan, "one-stop = minimal exposure shopping." #favesaying

sheesh. gonna be honest, this pandemic is messing with my grocery game. yeah, I create meticulous lists, you bet'cha. but all checked-twice-list bets are off when I walk through the superstore's "airlock." (⬅️ that word(!) doesn't live up to it's hype. #pandemicstandards)

It feels like I live a dual pandemic-panic shopping life:
rational me: sticks religiously to my list
vs.
irrational me: spies a fishing pole, and thinks, "I don't have this... what if the pandemic gets so bad that I have to start fishing?!" 

before you know it, I'm wedging a rod, reel and fluorescent lures (big enough to tempt Free Willy) between two dozen eggs, coconut milk, a box of those posh "fireplace" matches, the what-if-we-lose-power?! hibachi, and a pair of what-if-there's-a-flood?! hip-waders.

the rational-me list, firmly gripped in my left hand, snaps me back. I review the cart's contents, giving each item a serious rethink.

I discard the posh matches. #frivolous 

I rededicate myself to my list, and head to Pharmacy for some Vitamin D gummies. 

I flatly ignore aisle after aisle of reading glasses, canes, wrist bandages, foot supports/powder, allergy relief, no-pooping relief, back pain relief; judiciously resisting each of their what if—?! arguments. 

I am nearly passed the last fill-in-the-blank body part pain relief. I'm thisclose to reaching the wall of gummy vitamin delights when-- 

I stop dead in my tracks. evolutionary instincts take over; with my peripheral vision I watch my phone-hand raise, thumb hovers over the camera button...

*click*




honestly, I have no idea what I've discovered. clearly, I can read, but never, ever(!) have I seen the words "EAR" and "Candles" paired together-- much less packaged with a set of sketchy directions, and a photo of a human with a candle sticking out of her head. 

the longer I stare at this cock-eyed (cock-eared?) product, rational thought slips away, replaced with my irrational evil-twin; "what if the pharmacy runs out of the prescription stuff of whatever this does?!" 

the scientific claims on the packaging come into focus:
"naturally relaxing" 
me: eyes flit back to the photo, "oohhh, she's relaxed! not in a meds-induced coma."

"handcrafted beeswax candles" 
me: "a gold clip-art graphic official seal. seems legit."

"Luxury Collection"
me: "gasp, and only $8.99." 

again, I take inventory of my cart. 

I rethink the eggs.