health and wellness, That girl in the red coat, writing

Tales of Truth – The Covid-19 Diaries

It’s official. Day 60 of Covid-19 lockdown has arrived. I have officially been home for 2 months. After 47.5 years on this planet I made bread. I made jam. I decorated the squirrel feeder my hubby made me with my daughter’s old Barbie toys… cake, teapot and cups. I’ve done 18 puzzles. Read a few books. Ran errands for friends and family. Strategically planned grocery store runs and produce pick up. Cooked every damn day. Emptied the garbage…. don’t even get me started on the fact that there are two other adults in my house. Woke up every day wondering what day it was. Went a little overboard with online shopping and I have to admit I have forgotten some of what I purchased. Every time I hear the door bell I wonder what will be waiting for me outside. A puzzle? A book? Baking supplies? A zebra?

Well, as of tomorrow I will know the date as it is time for yours truly to head back to work. The province of Ontario has given the go ahead for retail stores with a street store front to reopen. … and I gotta admit, I’m a little nervous.

I know how fortunate I am to have a job waiting for me. Many employees and owners of small businesses, large and small cannot say the same. The owners and management of my store have all the PPE we need, masks, gloves, hand sanitizer, sanitizer spray for all surfaces, social distancing measures in place and for this I am grateful. I am confident in myself and my co workers to abide by the new policies and procedures, not so confident of the general public. Before you start in on me about my previous statement, I’m just keeping it real people. I know most of us are behaving ourselves. I also have it on good authority that some are not. … and no, my source is not Fox News or CNN. Many people I know have been working with the public since day one of the Covid-19 crisis and unfortunately have run into some people that are, lets say, from the shallow end of the gene pool.

As of late, every time you turn on the television or scroll social media, someone, somewhere has a new theory. A new opinion. That Covid-19 isn’t that bad. That it’s a government plot. The Democrats made it up to bring down Trump. That the aliens are behind it all. I could go on but I fear I may start to gag. Here’s the deal;

  • I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure the government is not behind the lock down. In the past, their claim to fame hasn’t been their financial generosity.


  • As for the people that say “it’s not so bad” … ummm, yeah it is. It just seems not so bad to you because you are healthy.


  • The Democrats did not make this up. Democrats are getting sick too. … and as for Trump, he is so low there is no way to bring him down any lower.


  • As for the aliens….I got nothin’.

Unfortunately we are also privy to;

  • Many a “Karen” on social media and in person I’m sorry to say, ranting about having to wear a mask.


  • I’ve heard a grown man in the check out line at the grocery store shout “It ain’t my fault for the virus! Whatcha so afraid of? Open up another damn cashier!” – by the way, this gent was wearing a mask and gloves. I finally saw an oxymoron in human form.


  • People complaining about having to follow the arrows on the floor at the grocery store. Yes. It’s a pain. Yes. It can be a nuisance. No, it’s not okay to shout at the 15 year old employee about how much of a pain and nuisance it is.


I get that masks are uncomfortable. So are ventilators. I get that standing 6 feet apart is a nuisance. I would rather stand 6 feet from someone then not being able to be 6 feet near someone if they are in the hospital. I get it’s scary. We aren’t in total control anymore… like we ever really were. Every day there seems to be a new rule. It can be hard to grasp what’s what. I get it. You gotta remember. We are all in this together. I don’t mean in a “kumbaya” sort of way, not even in a “we’re in the same boat” kind of way. What I mean is, more often that not, we are all anxious. We are all weary. We are all suspicious. We are all sad. We are all wondering what’s next for us and for the world. We are all trying to adjust to this new normal. We are all hopeful. No matter your age, race or gender, we all wake up everyday feeling one or all these things.

Wear a mask when needed or asked. Be kind. … and wash your damn hands.


*Side note, I know some Karens that are actually quite nice.

Beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, Sunday Confessions, That girl in the red coat

Tales of Truth – The Covid-19 Diaries

So there I was, sipping my coffee, looking out the window at the grey and gloomy skies thinking “typical Monday” until I realized it is in fact Sunday. I don’t know about you, but losing track of what day it is, or what day something happened or something someone said freaks me out a little. It doesn’t help that Alzheimer’s and dementia runs in my family. So I find myself making myself recite dates, times and memories to lock them in my memory vault. Yes, I am fully aware that my anxiety and OCD is showing, but here we are.

I find myself checking the fridge and freezer more than I should. Not for snacks….not every time. I find myself double checking that I did in fact buy enough food the last time I went to the grocery store to last us 2 weeks. I try to only go every 2 weeks. Trying my best to stay home. This Thursday coming is my planned grocery day. I’m already feeling a little tight in the chest about it. I find myself planning my “aisle route”, double checking I have a mask and hand sanitizer in my purse, that I have enough cash in case the debit is down, how to get the food in the house, should I wipe it down first or wipe myself down first …and it’s only Monday…I mean Sunday. When I realize what I’m doing to myself, I try to calm down. I try to change my mind. More often than not, I find myself in my garage having a cigarette. … I know. I know! Smoking is bad for me, especially in these times. Cut a girl some slack okay? I don’t even know what day it is. … and although it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, there is no booze in my house.

Most days I’m good. More or less feel like myself, make the most of things. Do a puzzle. Bake anything. Clean around the house. Play a game with the family. Call up friends. Check in on those who need help. Share funny posts and good news on Instagram. Go for a walk. Stand in my backyard and feel the breeze on my face. Then there are the days that I’m just sitting there, literally sitting there, not reading or listening to anything or watching T.V. and all of a sudden my eyes fill up. I’m on the verge of crying. Usually first thing in the morning. I’m always the first one up, so the house is quiet = more time to think. I don’t even know what I’m crying about. I think it’s just a release. My spirit letting go of stress, of the should have and could haves, maybe even grieving a little bit. Grieving for changed plans, or plans lost. Grieving for my dear friends who have lost loved ones these past few weeks. Grieving for the families and communities in Nova Scotia. Missing my Gramma Leah and her words of wisdom and fabulous recipes.

The point of this tale is not to cordially invite you to my pity party. It’s written in hopes of helping anyone who is feeling the same way. To let you know it’s okay to feel like you’re losing yourself. It’s okay to be scared that you may bring something home with you other than groceries. It’s okay to be happy and it’s okay to be sad. There is no right or wrong way to feel. We are all in this together.

Wash your hands. Stay home as much as possible. Check in on your family. Check on your friends and neighbours. Laugh when you want to. Cry when you need to. It’s going to be alright.

Beauty, Business, communication, health and wellness, Uncategorized, Women, writing

Just leave it at the door

I have been in the customer service gig for over twenty years, from being a waitress to a manager and everything in between. So believe me when I tell you, I know the frustration of working with the public. Hell, it’s not good genes that give me my full bottom lip…I got that baby from all the times I had to bite my lip to stop myself from saying what I was thinking about a customer’s behavior. From a temper tantrum over ¬†OPI Lincoln Park after Dark being on back order to a mother mocking her teen daughter’s oily scalp to a flat iron being thrown at my head…I have heard,seen and felt it all. Quite honestly, it is getting a little old and tiresome. I have to leave it at the door, I think everyone should as well.

For those of you wondering what the hell I am talking about, let me explain. In the customer service circles, “Leave it at the door” means just that. Whatever personal issues you are having, be it a sick child, a boyfriend who gives the joystick more attention than you (pun definitely intended), or your undies are bunching up – leave them at the door and pick ’em back up at the end of your work day. In other words – to quote Melvin Udall “sell your crazy somewhere else…we’re all stocked up here”. (you know…Jack Nicholson… As good as it gets…sigh). Life gets in the way, all the time. Leave it at the door.

I understand, trust me, how difficult it can be to “leave it at the door”. In one week I had my husband and my father have a heart attack as my daughter was in the throws of beginning high school. Guess what?!? Still had to put on a happy face and be polite. Still had to do my job and help our customers and clients. First of all – that is what you call being a professional. Second, that is called being an adult. Third and most important, using my husband’s or father’s health as an excuse to act like an ass would make me, well, an ass.

What brought on this tale today you ask? Well, let me tell ya, I ran into someone who didn’t leave it at the door, and quite honestly, it pissed me off. There I was, in line at my local grocery store. I have been a cashier in my youth, so I know what a joy that job can be, so I always make a point of being nice. The elderly gentleman in front of me was buying a jug of water and was paying with change. Well, Goldilocks (she had blonde hair), sure didn’t appreciate that. I heard so many sighs I was waiting for a parental advisory to come across the scanner. After the gentleman finished his count, she reached for the receipt and stared me down. Alrighty then. I get up to the cash and say hello to which she barks without eye contact “Need a bag?!?”. Funny, she had no problem with eye contact a few seconds ago… . “No, I brought one thank you.” to which she grunted and began to pile my groceries, on top of said bag. So, I dug threw my bread and berries, got the bag and began to pack it myself. She finished ringing in my groceries, then stared at me. Wow! Eye contact restored. So, I looked at the monitor, saw my total and asked her “so the total is $41.40?” to which she quipped “Yeah.”. I give her my money, she gives me back my change, on the counter as my hand is open and out, and turns back to the next customer (god be with him). I wish her a good night and receive no response. This is when my 10 year old self popped up and I found myself saying “HEY! I said to have a good night.”. She turned, stared and stuttered out “have a good night”. “Thank you, see you again.” is what I left her with. Now, I admit, not one of my finest moments. Hopefully it made her realize she was being an ass and maybe, just maybe she would be nicer to her next customer. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow she will leave it at the door.

When it feels like life is kicking you in the crotch, why give it more of an excuse to get a few more blows in? If you are being miserable, you are gonna get misery given back to you. If you are being an ass, you are gonna get an asshole convention showing up all damn day. Just leave it at the door, and maybe, just maybe, on your way out the door at the end of the day, the wind will have blown it away.