Toilet paper? So yesterday.

Looked longingly at five toilet rolls, three on the bottom, two on top in the bathroom at a café the other day. Had a back pack with me. It would have been so easy to steal just one. No one would have known. It would have bought me toilet paper time.

Happy to tell you that my morality kicked in. I left, hands well-soaped and dried but not thieving. Self-consciously, I used the edge of my shirt to unlock and open the bathroom door. Felt irrationally proud of my antiseptic fastidiousness, despite having always bordered on OCD with hand-washing and hygiene. Then I realised that had there been any Covid-19 invisibly lurking amongst my fellow Francophones at the café table – no offence to any of my delightful group - I would have already contracted it. See, we were all handling the communal water bottle, as was the waitress. And before I’d gone to the bathroom,  I’d had a handful of sultanas from a little supply I carry around with me – bit of carb sustenance for this diabetic cyclist. Despite my best intentions, I’d forgotten to use hand sanitiser. Fark.

Quite easy to spread this pandemic, eh?

Being retired, I made the relatively easy decision to self-isolate, four days ahead of the state government’s declaring a State of Emergency as it turned out.

Still plenty of fruit and veg in the shops, if like me you shop small, and in a pinch I can be quite creative with legumes. Pfft to pasta and rice. Too many carbs for me. We’ll be right, potential imminent death notwithstanding.

It pained me a bit initially to miss out on my beloved German lessons, French conversation groups and choir rehearsals. Had a brief adrenaline fuelled sulk and then, something weird happened.

I felt pleasantly free, and not only from my packed post-retirement program.

My frugal zero waste tight-arse mentality has me pandemic primed. The lidded ‘nappy bucket’ is in situ in the laundry sink. An old towel has been cut into squares, now neatly hemmed. A repurposed squeezy detergent bottle is an excellent ‘portable bidet’.

Poor fools lining up for toilet paper. Having experienced a new cottony softness on my nether regions, I doubt I’ll return to my former wasteful habits. And don’t get me started on the squirty bottle.