W.C. Fields once returned to a bar following an evening of imbibing, and he asked the bartender, “Was I in here last night, and did I spend a 20 dollar bill?” When the bartender confirmed he had, Fields replied, “Good. I thought I’d lost it.”

Carol and I were happy to discover one lazy afternoon that our food and wine purchases over the course of the pandemic lockdown have amounted to more or less the same amount. We were able to verify this fact, thanks to our Instacart and Total Wine order histories. Carol was somewhat chagrined to discover the equivalence, while I celebrated its testament to balance and a common sense approach to being confined to quarters for more than six months. Plus I was relieved to see that half of our sustenance went for alcohol. No wonder we’ve been able to maintain our positive level of mental health throughout this pandemic.

We’ve also maintained that mental health by avoiding the bathroom scale, and attributing the tighter fit of our clothes to errors in the temperature settings of our washer. Ahem.

Regarding my change in girth, I try to avoid the mirrors in our house. When my gaze occasionally falls on my profile in one of them, though, I tell myself it’s just a funhouse image I’m seeing. (I’m wondering whether standing in front of an actual funhouse mirror might provide the svelte figure I’m looking for.) As long as the lockdown continues, I can excuse my weight gain as a matter related to public health. Same goes for my current social isolation. But pandemics, like all good things, must come to an end. While the number of anti-maskers and anti- vaxxers seem sufficient to guarantee a steady recurrence of contagion, it seems certain there are bound to be periods where it will be safe to be out in public again. And I know Carol; she’ll want to be a part of all that. I suppose I will too, at least as far as taking train trips again are concerned. But I know myself, and I will miss the refrigerator being just a few steps away, and the indentation on the couch being just like I like it.

We’ve also maintained that mental health by avoiding the bathroom scale, and attributing the tighter fit of our clothes to errors in the temperature settings of our washer. Ahem.

I’ve also gotten used to not hearing, “You’re not going out dressed like that, are you?” I suspect all those “going out” clothes don’t fit anymore. I’ll have to start thinking of interesting and clever things to say in front of actual people who are expecting you to participate in conversation, instead of just writing those clever things down without caring if they’re actually being read.

One thing I have learned about myself. I think I could adjust to solitary confinement better than most people. There’d have to be wine, of course, and cheese cubes. Wifi and a streaming service. A nice couch and ottoman. A couple of late morning and afternoon naps.

A well- managed pandemic, with a national lockdown and Instacart wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Be good for the environment. Just have to figure out how to run an economy and educate the children.

And harvest the grapes.