There is something about the weather, snow in particular, that reduces us to our most basic, primal selves. For example, the television news in Boston began advertising the Biggest Snow Storm Since
(the year of my birth—coincidence? I think not.) and I was overcome with a powerful, all-encompassing urge to purchase milk.
Now, granted, we were out of milk. And I enjoy a cup of cocoa or a bowl of cereal as much as the next person. But the thought of having to live a day or two without it sent me into a panic the likes of which I haven’t seen since I learned that
Josh Groban tickets had sold out and I thought I wouldn’t get to see the new tour. (Hey, save your judgments for someone else—it was a large concern for me, okay?)
So, for hours today I feverishly strode through the grocery store, panicked that they would be Out Of Food. Yeah, they weren’t. At all. So, I got a cart and filled it with, apparently, the most random food I could find. Now, it was comforting to realize that the rest of the greater Boston area (and Allston, and Brighton and I think Brookline, and possibly Newton) had also been seized with the hunt and gather instinct. The store was jammed with dazed looking consumers, and the occasional mother on a cell phone who was muttering to the clan members safe in the cave watching the fire sticks.
It was crazy. People were fighting for territorial hunting grounds. In the produce section, harsh words were exchanged, fabric softener was thrown, pure hugger-mugger broke out over the last bunch of bananas. I dove under the kumquats and rolled into a fetal ball until the harsh reality of obtaining provisions subsided. (Random thought--apparently, even in this weather, there is no shortage of kumquats. Who would have guessed?)
(Another random thought: there are currently 17 pages on google that contain both the words “hugger-mugger” and kumquat. That is even less likely.)
So, I finally got home after waiting 45 minutes in line and looked in amused awe at the items I dragged home. I put away my cans of kidney beans, bags of frozen peas and my chocolate covered raisins (because why buy food that make up actual meals?) and realized with a certain ontological horror that I had. Forgotten. To. Buy. Milk.
I ended up buying it across the street from CVS. I think it expired just after the blizzard of 78, but I don’t care. At least I have milk (well, technically I think it’s some sort of toxic base now—eh, potato, potahto) but at least I can rest safely knowing I’ve provided what I could for my family. At least I have the kidney bean and chocolate-covered raisin situation covered.
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