My shopping is out of control. I don’t know how it got like this, it could be boredom, it might be bloody mindedness, or I could just put it down to MS!
I’ve always been a bit of a shopaholic, in my teenaged years I would spend a month’s salary in the first week and get by on fresh air for three weeks until the next one. But it has got a lot worse in latter years. My house is bulging, my fridge breathes a sigh of relief when I remove an item from it and frankly, you don’t want to know about the chocolate!
There have been concerted efforts from my PA’s to take control and probably would help them, because they’re the ones who put it all away. When a Sainsburys delivery arrives they have to find more hiding places and they are getting a little short with me. Their plan is to tell me exactly what is needed and make a list, even tell Alexa what is needed and I then can shop. This doesn’t work. Why doesn’t it work? I have a theory about this, Andy likes to watch a football match on a Sunday afternoon and, because I don’t, I sit with a laptop inviting me, tempting me, daring me to shop and you cannot put parental locks on shopping websites and even though my carers leave me thinking that I have only spent £40.27, in order to get free delivery, by the time it comes on Monday it’s up to £66.72. None of this is my fault! I swear many chocolate and crisp manufacturers put something in their items that makes them addictive, I don’t need the shunning from the public, I need to be accepted for who I am, I need help not control, I don’t work well with control. Another day has passed and guess what? The important thing is the one thing I forgot to put in the basket, the important thing? Washing up liquid to remove all the chocolate from the plates.