All I really wanted was a rotisserie chicken and a big bag of pea pods to enjoy with a newly purchased tub 'o hummus. That's all. It was early last week before the planet shifted on its axis, and our lives were impacted in a historically significant, and sad way.

I wandered into Sam's Club and found a frenzy of activity, which I was determined not to be a part of. I saw cart after cart whiz past me, containing 4-packs of brightly-colored antibacterial wipes. I thought to myself that that was a good sign in and of itself. The mere fact that they were still available was heartening.

I turned down the aisle where they were located, intending simply to see how many pallet loads they had. There was a line to the one pallet that still contained them. I found myself thinking as I slowly walked toward the pallet, that I might as well get some as long as they were there.

When I returned home, I brought my chicken, veggies, and fruit in the house and returned to the driveway where my shiny, new, 4-pack of wipes was sitting in the open tailgate of my vehicle. I took it in the house and threw it behind the door on the landing to my basement.

I closed the door, shook my head, and started laughing as I stared at the package on the floor. I work with a germaphobe, so I certainly have seen these used time and time again. But never, not once, have I ever purchased them for use myself! Not even when I lived with two giant German Shepherds!

I have always found paper towels, with soap and water, or other antibacterial cleaners sufficient.

The gentleman I work with found research that explains my behavior as a type of  "fight or flight" reaction. Something that we are biologically wired to do. I'm not sure if these 312 antibacterial wipes will satiate that "drive to survive", but I suppose now that I have them, I'll use them.

However, I still feel like an idiot!

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