My name is Laura, and I’m an Amazon Prime addict. It’s been 22 hours and 20 minutes since my last purchase (not counting what’s waiting in my cart right now).
I started down the dark path of Prime thanks to my husband. He was the gateway. He lured me with the rationale that free 2 day shipping was worth $100 a year. I was skeptical. He pressed that we could stream stuff. I replied – then – that we had DirecTV and didn’t need no stinking streaming. Finally my resolve weakened. Not because of shipping. Because I got tired of hearing my husband yammer. We went Prime.
Going Prime was like waking up in a new dimension. Already as an introvert, jaded by decades in retail/customer service, I hated places like malls. For years I had relied on catalogs and the internet for most shopping. Amazon all by its plain old self was wonderful. It was a reputable etailer. And it had everything. But the shipping…. That was a problem. Will and I would have to tag-team purchases so that we could reach that $50 threshold to reach free shipping. And have you ever had to try to get the specific details of esoteric electronic-tooly man items out of an ADHD person? It ain’t fun. I would always find myself getting furious at him. I don’t know jack or shit about punch and die kits. I’m not reading the customer reviews for this crap. You do it. You do it now. Not tomorrow. You’ll forget. I don’t know which multi-tool is the best for an IT person. You already have 3 of them. I just want to order my F’ing stick blender, dammit.
With Prime, I was free. I could order what I want, when I wanted. Without consulting my husband. And ditto for him. I found myself saying “I really need a pack of 150 cellophane gift bags. Prime!” I order kids’ clothes, birthday gifts, makeup. I order inflatable pools (and air pumps), snacks, toilet paper (truth). I order paper plates, plastic cups, juice glasses. I order bags (paper), books (that I don’t have time to read), origami paper. I order lotion, shoes, candy. I’m starting to nose around that siren, PrimePantry.
I love the reviews. The reviews for many things are of much greater value than the items themselves. The writing in the reviews for 50 Shades of Grey was of a much higher caliber than the book itself. And I’m sure you’ve all seen the genius that appears in the reviews for the Haribo sugar-free gummy bears. (Helpful hint: search for 50 gallon lube. Another helpful hint: make sure you tee-tee before you start reading.)
I find myself broke a lot. Sure, I’m ordering needed items for our home. Typically I order these things suddenly as the
thought need pops into my consciousness. Most of these items are not expensive. But I suppose I hit it a lot. I’ve made 3 orders in a single day.
I also get very anxious when a week goes by without a box on my doorstep. It’s like when a pet dies that you’ve had for a long time. You miss that presence. That’s how I feel about those boxes.
So I’m vowing to cut back. I shall use more responsibly.
Oh shit. I need curling ribbon. Gotta go.