It was the smallest of things, it was the biggest of things*: I went to a neighborhood grocery store last week for the first time since COVID quarantining.
It felt normal and extraordinary.
I’ve made no secret about being ambivalent and anxiety-ridden about returning to a Post-COVID life. Most of my angst revolves around my potential schedule commitments. (I’ve been greatly comforted by reading and hearing more and more people express such concerns).
Setting these time and energy constraints aside, what do I want my new normal to look like? What daily or common activities or environments do I want to experience again?
I’ve purposely avoided spending too much time on this question–it’s just felt overwhelming. But on the fateful day in question I was on my way home from my new routine of a “park adventure” (this time Theodore Wirth Park) and I wanted to get eggs so I decided to stop at a grocery store and shop in person.
This was my first time inside a grocery store since March of 2020. The only store that I have regularly been in since the pandemic is a liquor store–I just couldn’t make alcohol delivery work well for us, I figured I could get in and out quickly and the liquor store was never crowded, and well, #Priorities.
Being in this grocery store felt weird, but good. It felt like I hadn’t been in there in forever, and also like only a week had passed. Now that I’m fully vaccinated, it’s nice to know that I can now just comfortably pop into a commercial establishment and buy something I want without worrying about catching COVID. (I may have to worry about awkward or irritating social interactions with strangers, but again, that’s normal).
Since the pandemic, I’ve been buying our groceries almost exclusively online and having them delivered or picking them up. I’ve been doing almost all our shopping online (except for the already disclosed booze runs). This was mostly motivated at first by wanting to avoid any COVID exposure, but then I just grew to like it. Once I figured out the idiosyncrasies of using Instacart and Imperfect Foods, I loved–and continued to love–the convenience of it.
Even before the pandemic, I wasn’t a big in-person shopper (at least not since my mother departed from this mortal coil). Yes, I know there are many ethical problems with using Amazon, (and I’ve been trying to cut back, really!) but there are few things in my life that I need to see in-person before I buy. We even got most of our groceries from Simon/Coburn Delivers when they were still operating in the Twin Cities.
Shopping at a store just didn’t fit in my schedule. When people would say to me “Oh you can just go to so-and-so and pick up that” I would usually cross whatever that was off the list of things I needed in my life.
There is a huge exception to this: Target. In the Before Times, I spent a lot of time at Target. A LOT. I got most of my essential purchases at Target–groceries, clothes…okay, groceries and clothes. But I browsed at Target. I dreamed at Target, and had aspirations of a better me at Target. I worshipped at the altar of consumerism at Target. Target brands are the only brands I reliably know (or knew).
I can definitely say I have only been to Target once since March of 2020. In some ways this is astounding to me. Several years ago I participated in a boycott of Target because of their financial support of Tom Emmer and it felt like such a sacrifice.
As life has started to return to normal, I have intentionally refrained from going to Target. I’m just not ready. I think it’s going to be a “Big Deal” and I want to be emotionally prepared. I want to properly observe the event. I want to make sure I have time to blog about it.
I want to be thoughtful in how I reintegrate Target into my life. Or, more accurately, Target has become a symbol for how I want to thoughtfully resume post-Covid life. I keep thinking about a time when my friend Pat saw me at Target after church and couldn’t get my attention to say “Hi” because I was in such a daze. Now, that wasn’t just the fault of Target, but I don’t want to just immediately return to that overstressed, overcommitted, overcapitalized self.
Yeah, I’m still a highly materialistic consumer when I show online at home, but it does feel a little more relaxed. At a minimum, I can aspire to be stressed and frazzled from the comfort of my home (at least I’ll gain travel time).
(*Yes, this is a play on the famous line from a “A Tale of Two Cities” as I just heard the story on “Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me” of Michael Steele saying his favorite book was “War and Peace” and then quoting “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”)
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