a moment in the day: blow

I'm getting ready for work. Just finished cooking a stir-fry and dishing it out into two matching containers for my breakfast and lunch. Food feels a little different, these days, since people have started hoarding it. Empty shelves in the grocery store. The weird run on toilet paper. Empty shelves in the frozen vegetable aisle last night so that all I could get was a potato-sack-sized bag of peas.

Then late last night, absorbed in a design project, I looked up from the glow of the computer and realized I hadn't eaten anything for dinner, and I thought, good. I should save it.

Makes me think about that Simpsons episode, the one where their dog Santa's Little Helper has to have an operation and the family is doing their best to tighten their belts.

Lisa says, I made a new bar of soap by squeezing all our little soap slivers together.

Bart says, I didn't take a bath today, and I may not take one tomorrow.

I've always fancied myself a Lisa, but as far as resourcefulness, I think it's obvious that I'm a Bart.

Stepping into the bathroom to wash my face and put on my makeup, I go to grab a bit of toilet paper to blow my nose.

Stop.

Yank my hand back.

Glance at how many rolls we have left.

No. I can wait. There are tissues at work.