“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 970 (Saturday) – top fan

When I got up at 7:30 today, I remembered there was a vaccine clinic and checked online to verify the hours. It began at 9:00, which allowed time for coffee beforehand. When I arrived at the site at 8:45, there were already at least a dozen people ahead of me in line.

Registration and check-ins began promptly at 9:00, by which time the line behind me extended through the lobby and the vestibule and outside onto the sidewalk. It had also begun raining quite hard. The staffers asked who had appointments, which inspired mini conversations in the line. Those of us without appointments said “Wait, we could make appointments?” and those with appointments said, “What, we could have just walked in?” 

The early cluster of people seemed evenly split between walk-ins and appointments. The appointment folks were checked in first and it was quick because all their info was already in the system.

Grocery money for boosters!

Even with the line, registration, the wait for the actual booster, and the 15-minute wait in the observation room, I was out the door and back in my car at 9:45. In addition to the smooth and efficient process, they were giving out $75 Market Basket gift cards to everyone who got a shot. I will admit, the profit motive was a big inspiration for getting to the clinic. Despite my teenage fantasies of being wealthy, I can recall no time in my entire working life where I earned that much money for one hour of my time. It was a most profitable morning and worth the time invested. 

Now the wait begins for any post-vaccine effects. After each of the first two shots and the booster, the next day, I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. The day after that, I felt like a million bucks. The guy administering my shot asked how I was after the previous ones, and suggested taking Ibuprofen and drinking “two bottles of water,” which I swear sounded to me like “two bottles of wine,” and we both had a chuckle over that. Two bottles of wine would definitely leave me with a headache, so I’ll stick to the water.

Just in case this latest booster inspires achiness, headache, and overall feeling like crap, Sunday chores were tackled early. The puffy quilt and the sheets were washed and there was a trip to Market Basket for a roasted chicken for chopping and mixing in with Winston’s food.

While at MB, my dwindling cheese reserves were replenished with shredded Italian mix, Parmesan, and the beloved deli cheese ends which look like Provolone. And a bag of Tri Sum chips, which are now available in all Market Basket stores, according to the company’s Facebook page. There was a notification that I am a “top fan” on the Tri Sum page and was bestowed with a badge declaring such. The weighty honor made me felt obligated to express my support of their presence in Lowell with a purchase. It's probably a highly tested marketing tactic. If so, it worked on me.

Top fan!

I almost told the fully grown adult bagger to not put the roasted chicken in the same bag with the chilled cheese, then thought against it, because he’s a grown-ass adult, should surely know this, and probably didn’t need me telling him how to do his job. Bad move. 

Despite there being two reusable bags sent down the conveyor with my order, he put the bags of shredded cheese directly on top of the hot chicken, then the loaf of bread, and finally the chips. Then he slid the still folded second shopping bag into the bag with the food.

In the parking lot, I grumbled and repacked the bag to separate the hot chicken from the rest of the items and in doing so, dropped the one pound loaf of bread onto the precious bag of chips, essentially crushing them. Errrrr. The ride home involved mentally composing my imaginary letter to MB headquarters, beseeching them to please train the baggers about food temperatures and how to pack the groceries. It seems like a rule instead of an exception that the hot chicken is paired in a bag with ice cream or cold cheese or frozen ravioli. Maybe I can enclose a time card or an invoice for my time spent this year re-bagging groceries.