JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

St. Corona, who is buried in Northern Italy, the former epicenter of the pandemic (It’s New York City now). Isn’t that Alanis don’t you think. Image from Wikipedia.

Quarantine may keep us from infecting others and getting infected ourselves, but it comes with its own health problems. Walking is my main form of exercise, and since I can’t walk outside I’ve taken to doing those Walk At Home videos on YouTube. I feel stupid, but it’s better than nothing. At noon after I feed the building cats, I stand in a patch of sunlight for ten minutes. Experts are divided on which time of day is best for soaking up the sunlight the body needs to make vitamin D. Some say avoid the sun from 11am-1pm because that’s when the UVB is harshest; some say that’s precisely when you should get sunshine because it’s more intense so you need less exposure. (Many dermatologists say avoid the sun altogether.) So I slather sunblock on my face and stand in the sun in short sleeves and shorts and hope it’s enough. Again, I feel stupid, but embarrassment is non-fatal.

While I was absorbing hopefully useful radiation, I noticed that the café next door was open for take-out and delivery. I’ve been living on sandwiches and microwaveables (not even lockdown will make me learn to cook), so I decided to get a “proper” meal. After irradiating myself I walked to the café, looked at the menu posted on the door, and asked the waitress if I could order food. As we were observing the correct social distance, we yelled at each other in a friendly way. She said my order would take 15 minutes, so I returned in 20. My first “home-cooked” meal in nearly two weeks: chicken cordon bleu and a kani salad. It was wonderful.

Jackie had given me the number of a well-known bakery that delivers. My order arrived in the afternoon. The very efficient delivery person wore a mask and gloves. I put my payment in an envelope in a large paper bag by the door. He took the envelope, then put the plastic-wrapped packages of bread into the paper bag. We were like spies exchanging radioactive material. Then I carried the paper bag into the house, unwrapped the bread, transferred the bread into my own containers, and put the wrappers into the covered trash bin. Then I washed my hands again. It seems a lot of trouble, but our focus should be on survival.

It struck me that the essential food businesses like bakeries (People on keto and other no-carb diets will disagree, but I love bread) and groceries that continue to operate during lockdown (How do the workers get to work without public transportation?) are keeping us alive. If I had money, I would buy a bakery. Out of curiosity I asked my friend, a corporate lawyer, how much a bakery like that would cost. He said assuming that the bakery makes 10 million pesos a year, they might sell at three times that (30 million). I said, They make 10 million a year?!

Obviously I know nothing about money—as a freelance writer, I am impressed when a news outlet pays five thousand pesos for an article within a month of publication. My lawyer friend said he pulled the numbers out of the air, but 10 million meant they made about 800k a month, and they had to pay salaries and rent out of that. If they owned the building and the land, he added, it made no sense to keep the bakery going when they could just sell the property and make so much more money.

And that is how we all starve to death, by forsaking food production for more lucrative industries. When we get through this, and we have to believe that we will, we need to talk about putting our money in real things that people need in order to live. You can’t eat derivatives, even on Hermés plates.