It's the End of the World As We Know It

I’ve never been one to panic, although I admit that last year when water was pouring through the shrieking ceiling smoke detector that my heart rate may have been somewhat elevated.

I’ve been watching the news with eyebrows raised and eyes squinted.

Friday was my normal day off so I thought I’d run to Costco first thing and pick up my weekly groceries. I normally have to go on Saturday or even Sunday when it’s crowded. In fact, the previous Sunday when I went people were beginning to hoard water and toilet paper. I hurried out of there as quickly as I could because there were just so many people everywhere, entire families, snapping at each other and dodging giant shopping carts.

Back to Friday. I headed toward the Costco three minutes from my house. At the corner where I normally turn, Costco traffic was backed up to the intersection. The parking lot was full, like day-before-Christmas meets the zombie apocalypse (minus the actual zombies).

I gave up on Costco and headed to Trader Joe’s. I only needed a few things. I found a parking spot easily but then ominously, found only one shopping cart left. I took it and began gathering fruit and vegetables. The aisles weren’t so crowded, I thought, not much different than a normal day here in Southern California where you just learn to navigate crowded stores on a regular basis.

Then I turned a corner and saw the long lines snaking through the store, into the first aisle and beyond. I ended up waiting thirty minutes in line to pay for my meager two bags of groceries.

(A man two carts up from me jokes and said he picked out green bananas at Costco and by the time he paid, they were brown. The lady directly in front of me told me she canceled her family’s Hawaiian vacation even though she’d lost all the AirBnB lodging money. One man walked into the store and said, “So many stupid people.” Another woman walked in, took one look, said, “nope” and turned back around.)

In a contradictory turn of events, we are being advised to maintain our social distance, yet we are crowded together in stores purchasing provisions as if the end of the world has arrived. It’s bizarre.

My kids (college and high school aged) are now all doing their classes on line. None of them seem particularly worried. I’m keeping my incredulity under wraps because people I run across are so truly freaked out and panic-stricken. I don’t have one worried molecule in my body.

I know that everyone says it’s different, but I remember the Swine Flu. I remember the hysteria over Y2K. I’ve never seen anything like the government response and the public response is equally frantic . . . but is it really the end of the world as we know it?

I feel fine.

(Also I have to go to work tomorrow just like it’s any other day but I will enjoy the light traffic on the roads.)