I read a long article this morning about the ways the COVID pandemic surprised the experts, national and international.

What didn’t surprise them was a shortage of toilet paper.

Join me in an imagined 2016 meeting of a dozen international epidemiologists.

First expert: What should we look for when the next pandemic strikes?

Eleven experts (in unison): A toilet paper shortage.

For once I was ahead of the game.  While my friends were roaming the paper goods aisles I was looking at my four unopened 12-packs of Trader Joe’s least expensive toilet paper.  I don’t buy the thicker softer toilet paper because our house has a septic tank and the thinner product is kinder to septic tanks.

I started keeping nearly a year’s supply of toilet paper on hand after I moved from Minden, NV to Grass Valley in 2014.  I was overwhelmed by the roads, the eight lane freeways full of thousands of cars hurtling along at 80 miles an hour, the miles of shopping centers, all the people, and I had no idea how to get to Trader Joe’s in Roseville. But I went back to Nevada to visit a couple of times a year and on my way out of town I would stop at Trader Joe’s to shop and among other things I would buy several packages of toilet paper.  Then I would go next door to Costco and fill up the gas tank for the drive home.

Because I’m very organized, I buy a new 12-pack soon after I open the closest pack on the shelf so I always have four unopened packages.  And yes, the newest pack goes behind the previously purchased packs.

I also follow that method when I put my clean clothes away.  Most recently laundered turtlenecks go on the bottom of the pile in the drawer.  This rotation ensures that my clothes wear out in the same order they were purchased leaving nothing wasting away unworn.

This system is possible because I buy the same brands, same styles, year after year.  Actually every three to five years. I buy L.L. Bean exclusively for everyday clothes.

I do have a tiny selection of dress-up clothes for dinner parties or the theater that were not purchased from L.L. Bean; they will last the rest of my life.  Keep in mind I’m turning 83 in February.

My oldest turtlenecks and long-sleeved T-shirts are starting to get tiny holes so they are on their way out but I won’t have to buy more for a couple of years.

The new year is starting on a high note, my friends.  I need nothing. There are four unopened packages of toilet paper on the highest shelf in my bathroom.

Happy 2023, full of love, laughter and most of all, plenty of toilet paper.