The shopping arrived today, yes folks I am one of them lucky/crazy people who managed to bag a slot. I say lucky because I actually managed to get a delivery slot, I say crazy because I am one of the people who sits constantly day and night waiting for the slots to become available, I can’t remember the last time I went to bed before midnight. Is it strange that I feel the need to justify having actual food delivered to my house?
“It’s my normal weekly shop” (it is).
“I am not panic buying or stocking up on beans and pasta (as if my kids would let me feed them beans and pasta everyday!).
“I haven’t managed to get a shop for weeks” (except the trips to the co-op by my husband while I advise him to hold his breath and not touch anything).
But the real high of this fantastic experience (besides the lifetime supply of chocolate and the ability to once again be able to bribe my kids), I got to talk to a real life human, as he stood half a mile away, over the gate, behind a wall and we both slightly held our breaths. Looks like this isolation stuff is causing my social side to make an appearance and I’m not sure I like it.
