Last week, we stood at our doorways and applauded healthcare workers - our newest ritual that has spread from Roman balconies to Dublin's terraced streets.
But let's not forget that right around Ireland, so many others in "essential services" are working tirelessly trying to keep us all going. And right up there are supermarket and grocery shop workers.
So-called non-essential workers have now been ordered to stay at home - leaving others from healthcare to transport and retail to continue with their daily grind. Of all essential employees, the ones who check through our groceries at the supermarket, give us our change and direct us to the dry foods aisle are the ones we are all most likely to see and interact with and rely on over the next few weeks.
Now that our streets have emptied, it's glaringly obvious who the real heroes of our society are: the friendly cashiers, the stockers and warehouse workers. The workers who unload the delivery trucks, the personal shoppers who look after our online orders, and those who haul back all the shopping trolleys we leave behind in the car park. Whether they're stacking shelves, working a till or delivering food to our doors, they will put themselves on the Covid-19 front line every single day.
Whether you've lost your job or are one of the very lucky ones simply confined to work from home for the foreseeable future, the daily lives of most people already look vastly different than they did last month.
But while we are obsessively refreshing the news or drinking like we're 19 again, shop workers are out there, bearing the brunt of the pandemic.
They are being asked to contribute more than most of us, at no small risk to their own health.
Interacting with hundreds of us every day, they're at risk of infection every time they come within a few feet of a customer. Often without masks or shields or barriers, they are working long hours, risking infection and fighting tiredness to do their jobs.
Now they are a lifeline for us all - and possibly the only other person we might talk to all day, or all week.
Their jobs have grown too, to include absorbing and defraying the nation's growing tension. On top of the health risks, they are bearing much of the brunt of our anxiety and frustration, as we scan increasingly empty shelves and worry about what's going to become of us all.
Back before coronavirus changed everything in our world, food retail workers were there for us, even if we didn't realise it at the time. They scanned our shopping, made no judgement about our Wednesday night bottle of wine, our chocolate biscuit habit or our over-reliance on frozen pizza as a handy week-night dinner.
They'd pretend to barely register the contents of our trolley as they waved us off with a nod or a smile. And you know what, an eight-hour shift in a grocery store, whether stocking shelves in Cork or working the cash register in Mullingar, wasn't always an especially lovely job before the coronavirus shocked the world into realising how much we depend on these essential workers.
Too often, we customers didn't even acknowledge them as human, and after hours of scanning and beeping, that refusal to acknowledge must have hurt.
Will this global health emergency wake us all up to the need to change our economy to more fairly benefit the people who keep it afloat?
Or will we recognise the workers in essential services now with a smile when we see them at the shop, only to forget all about them when everything goes back to normal?
Working in retail puts you in the biggest group of low-paid staff. At €10.10 an hour, our minimum wage is far less than the living wage calculation of €12.30 an hour, the figure intended to help employers understand what they need to part with to ensure that their workers can actually lead a decent life.
The friendly chat with the girl at the checkout this morning will be my only social interaction on this stay-at-home day. There was something reassuring about the familiarity of it in a scary world.