12:27pm: T minus approximately one hour and three minutes until my very first Countdown online grocery order delivery window starts. Feeling very very very excited. Like, I’m more excited about this delivery than I am about meeting my unborn child. I know. I’m a monster. But these are groceries and if it goes well this time around, I may never have to set foot inside a bloody supermarket ever again.
12:57pm: I wonder what everything will be packed in. If there are plastic bags for hectares, I may have to retract my previous comments.
12:58pm: I wonder if they’ll bring everything inside for me. I don’t want to accidentally have a baby while lifting bags of groceries across the threshold.
12:59pm: I also wonder if they’ll throw in a free apple. One of the best bits about shopping at Countdown is the basket full of free fruit for kids at the front door. If there’s a next time, I might casually mention in the Shopper Notes that my three-year-old loves his free apple. #savings
1:01pm: When they say “Delivery between 1:30pm and 4:30pm”, do you think it’ll be closer to 1:30 or 4:30? I don’t know how many more excited poos I have in me.
1:06pm: Casually appreciating how much money I may have saved doing my shopping online versus pushing my trolley that probably has two uneven wheels up and down the aisles and absentmindedly picking up, fondling, dreaming of consuming and depositing all the delicious things into said trolley. The fact that there was a counter adding up all my purchases in the top right-hand corner of my screen made it very obvious if I was about to go over budget or if I had spare monies for ice cream and cookies. Given that we’ve just overhauled our budget because #newbaby #nomoney, this is very ideal. And no, there were no spare monies. Note to self for next week: make this a priority.
1:28pm: Ermagerd, it’s almost time. Well, almost time for the delivery window to start. He may take two more hours to get here. Or he may be a she. Or gender neutral. Or maybe a cat. But I’m getting distracted. Go inside and make a sandwich, Erin. They will knock when they arrive.
2:04pm: Guys, they’re still not here. I’m getting worried. Are they lost? Have they lost my order? Have they been eaten by zombies? Blessed be the fruit (that I have ordered from Countdown).
2:32pm: I am floating on cloud nine a bit right now. I just got all this stuff for significantly less effort than it would normally have taken to haul this massive pregnant ass into the car, drive to the mall, deal with nincompoops who don’t understand Give Way rules, find a carpark that’s the perfect distance from the door to the trolley putbackerer, finally get to the supermarket, remember that I need do a wee first, go back to the supermarket after said wee, search for one of those small shallow trolleys because my humungus pregnant stomach doesn’t make it easy to reach down into the big regular ones, fail and have to deal with a big regular one anyway (then realise a few metres later that it has two uneven wheels but I can’t go back through the one-way gates to swap it for another), spend however many hours trawling the aisles for what I need (and what I think I need) while trying to push this darn trolley straight, stand in line for what seems like hours but is really more like 10 minutes to pay, realise that I’ve chosen the trainee checkout operator lane and actually those 10 minutes really are hours, realise I’ve forgotten to bring my reusable bags with me so spend another however many dollars buying more reusable bags that I’m probably going to forget next time too, audibly wince at the total amount I owe the checkout operator who really needs to learn how to pack my foodstuffs quicker, haul my own poorly-packed bags into my trolley because they’ve failed to see that I’m literally about to give birth, possibly on the supermarket floor, then finally, with a deep thankGodthat’sover sigh, make the journey back through the mall to the carpark … only to realise that I’ve forgotten the milk and some arsehole has opened their door into the side of my car and that’s clearly a dent that’s going to cost something to fix but not so much that insurance will cover it so thank you very much, nincompoop.
Nope, doing my grocery shopping online has changed my life. Here’s why:
- I literally did my grocery shopping while sitting in bed wearing pyjamas, drinking milk and watching Brooklyn Nine Nine at almost 9pm last night.
- At checkout I could have chosen a delivery window of 10:30am-12:30pm but decided against it just in case I was having a baby at the time and my sausages were left outside in the raging sun. I chose the later session so if he had to my neighbour would be home and break into our house and put the chilly things in the fridge. But the point was I COULD HAVE HAD MY ORDER BEFORE LUNCHTIME THE FOLLOWING DAY IF I WANTED TO, OH JOYOUS OF JOYOUSES.
- A lovely man turned up with my delivery and brought it inside for me. He even asked if he should take his shoes off. Bro, even if they were covered in mud I would be happy for you to keep them on.
- Everything was packed in lovely brown paper bags which I’m sure I could use for some indie craft project sometime. Like fo real, they’re great quality. You’d pay like dozens of dollars to buy your own from Spotlight.
- Even all my loose fruit and veges were popped altogether into a brown paper bag; no superfluous plastic here (except for the three courgettes I had to buy in plastic wrap because there wasn’t another option).
- Oh and did I mention that I DIDN’T HAVE TO GO TO THE EFFING SUPERMARKET? Dreamy.
Verdict: the supermarket is for losers. Online grocery shopping is for winners. There are no two ways about it. The only thing that could make it that tiny bit better is an apple for my kid but hey, no one’s perfect.