Reality bites: Day 10 of self-isolation

The saga of whether the Liquor Control Board of Ontario (LCBO) is actually capable of following through on its promise of delivering alcohol to the house is still ongoing. Those with elephantine memories will recall that a poor, dispirited traveller had made his way back from Spain last Saturday in need of sustenance and succour. This he singly failed to pick up at Madrid airport because all the duty free stores were closed. Feeling unable to send his beloved wife (and mother of the plum of his loins) to the store and possibly risk her exposure to Covid19 (let’s be serious, someone has to make me cups of tea while I am in the basement), he decided to place his first ever on-line order for alcohol from the aforementioned LCBO.

Up to here, no problems. I placed an order for the typically overpriced Canadian alcohol, paid with my credit card and received the confirmation message. It’ll be here in 2-4 days. I figured, being generous, what with the current situation and things being tied up, I’ll receive my order Thursday… No such luck. I emailed and received the standard cookie-cutter answer… it’s on its way. Sunday passes, Monday, today… so I check again on the tracking number to find out where it is. The Canada Post website tells me… it is out for delivery. When I check back again at the end of the day, it tells me it would have been delivered … if I had been in to receive it.

Now, Canada Post has previous for this. The postie doesn’t fancy lugging a box up our drive so tiptoes out of his van and puts a ‘failed delivery’ notification in our letter box. This then entails someone having to drive to the nearest depot to pick it up. Normally they can get away with this without any risk of come back. How many people work at home or are at home all day. Most people pop out for a coffee or a lunch or a meeting or something… so it is virtually infallible. And, this time, they didn’t even bother leaving a notice for me. If I hadn’t checked, I’d never have known.

However, as Canada Post has obviously failed to notice, we are in the middle of a lock down. (Maybe someone sent the memo via the notoriously unreliable Canada Post?) Nobody is leaving any houses at any time. How in the name of God can they explain that someone called at the house where we have three people and two guard cats living – and none of us managed to notice? Ottawacker Jr. is at the window having a good nose around if a cyclist goes down the street – there is no way he’d miss a van. I give up. So that essentially means we have to risk exposure to get the booze. Maybe I’ll go teetotal.

That, in a way, summed up today. I think I hit a wall in terms of my basement dwelling. I couldn’t settle to anything. I think Ottawacker Jr. sensed it too, as he didn’t want a chapter of the Lord of the Rings. With no structure to the day, I sort of lose the will to do things. I need to take myself in hand (not in the German hand washing sense) or this won’t end well.

Today is Day 10 and I think everyone is a little on edge for me. Although, I think, touch wood (again, not in the German… oh stop it), I am OK. If I have had anything, I think I have had it mildly. Although we’ll see how hollow those words sound in a week.