• crewders

...who is a shopping yo-yo

Updated: Mar 30

The Lock Down: day 3


05:55 Woke with a start thinking I was about to shit myself. Realised I was in fact about to shit myself as I’d put the Senna flax seeds in yesterday’s yoghurt by accident. A full colonic by 6am. Least that’s the pipes cleaned out.


7am Crossed over the road to Sainsbury’s ready to do my good deed for Rosemary, elderly lady at number 8 only to find 2 people arguing; “You should have been here during the war then you’d know about rationing” said a short, grey haired older chap carrying a blue satchel. Strange I thought as I held on to my bags for life, what on earth is he planning on putting in there? “Honestly I’m not arsed about the war I just want some fucking prawns” said a rotund, puce woman in, I guess, her mid-forties. “Well I don’t think there’s any need for that is there” I piped up “You can fuck off as well luv, haven’t you read the sign, it’s now not open till 8am. Why they can’t write that on the fucking website is beyond me.” Now I don’t want to go all middle class on you but come on now, we’re in Hooraarharpenden, I get the need for prawns so early on but surely expletives aren’t the done thing pre midday?


8am Back at Sainsburys having gone home, changed her, fed her and him and signing up to be a volunteer for the NHS. Jesus I’m a modern-day Mother Teresa.


8:01 Manager tells me I do not work for the NHS nor am I over 70, though ponders that bit a little too long for my liking. I can return at 9am.


I’M A FUCKING SHOPPING YO-YO


9am Screw you Sainsburys local, I drive 5miles to another with Beryl and Rosemary’s list which clearly states 3 bananas, not ripe.


9:30 Have sung Elephants have wrinkles 947746 times in the carpark. Apparently, the old people are very slow and will not get out. One woman is very cross and tells us all she only wants FUCKING BREAD ROLLS. One chap parks in a mother and baby space. Contemplate informing him but think better of it. People are losing their shit at the minute, it’s simply not worth the abuse.

10 Leave Sainsburys minus half the stuff Rosemary and I need but with a baby for the bath and 30 animal stamps. Truthfully, she could have had anything if she’d have stayed quiet.


10:15 Waitrose carpark. Queuing on foot, 2metres apart for a one in one out shop. 35 people in at once. It’s like a scene from The Walking Dead. Try to waste time by getting a trolley and letting her sit in it. A worker runs out wearing a protective suit, face mask and gloves shouting NOOOOOOOOO. Jesus wept. Apparently, we get sanitized trollies in store. I mutter about the benefits of a simple sign as he walks off. Woman behind tuts at me. TUTS AT ME. I swear to god by the end of three weeks, which we all know really means six, we will all be kicking off at each other for simply breathing.


11:45 Home and suspect the almost 5 hours I’ve dedicated to shopping today would not be welcomed by Boris.


5pm An afternoon spent doing the following:


Video calling 438734587348 people


Dropping a FUCKING BOX OF PERONI not 2cm away from my injured foot. Google if Coronavirus can make you unable to hold items. Nothing comes up on search. Contemplate licking Peroni gold off the floor but shattered glass stops me.


8pm Host an online support group and want to spend the entire hour talking about myself but think better of it.


10pm a bit drunk in bed. Shockingly our bed where I stay the entire night. He concludes I must be ill.

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