PacMan

Today, I ventured out into the real world.

And I didn’t like it.

I’ve been #adulting and working on a refinance for our home to take advantage of the lower interest rates. We close on Monday, so like a responsible adult, I suited up and left my home for the first time in weeks to get a cashier’s check for the closing costs.

Now when I say “suited up,” I mean I had to rummage through my closet in search of a pair of real pants that actually fit. Once I managed to squeeze into some jeans, I then welcomed the dystopian vibes as I grabbed a pair of gloves and a face mask.

Banks are only conducting business via drive through around here. I knew the outside world was going to be different from how I left it, but I was incredibly unprepared for the wrapped line of cars around my credit union.

About 45 minutes later, I was finally pulling up to the pneumatic tube transport and reaching for the canister. I dropped in my ID and a note detailing exactly what I needed (because I even have anxiety about executing a drive through transaction) then sent the canister away. As it flew overhead, I glanced up toward the window to see a line of tellers inside.

All eerily wearing facemasks.

I knew they would be. But nothing really prepares you for the realization that even our tellers inside the locked bank must protect themselves.

While I was out, I figured I might as well stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things and make an adventure out of the day.

It felt like I was preparing to enter battle as I situated myself in the store parking lot.

“Alright, boys.” I said to no one. “We don’t know what we’ll find in there. Best be on our toes and ready for anything. Move out!”

I marched in with gloves on my hands and a mask over my face. I grasped a cart and tried to move as swiftly as possible through the store.

When you’re navigating through produce 6 feet away from a strategically spaced crowd in masks as the intercom defines social distancing, you feel like you’re in some sort of a YA dystopian novel, and you’re eventually going to have to choose between the two guys you like, one of whom is in the next aisle.

Trying to practice social distancing while following the new directional aisles and searching for the damn bread aisle was exhausting. Navigating a grocery store during the ‘Rona is like playing PacMan. You’re PacMan, trying to collect all your groceries in this confusing maze, and EVERYONE ELSE is killer ghosts closing in on your personal space.

I barely made it out with my life.

And my groceries, of course. Can’t go home without HotPockets.

I don’t think I will be going back out there. Reality is a little too bizarre for me right now. I will enjoy the chaos safely from my own home, and play PacMan on the old N64 instead.

Stay healthy, friends.

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