Cheers... Add to Cart

The knock at the door seems unnecessarily aggressive. I sit up 一 far too quickly given the wine I consumed last night 一 and trudge to the door. With each step, I try to recall what I’ve ordered lately. It will probably be whatever my lockdown-drunk self thought was useful three to seven nights ago. Most likely something I saw on TikTok or Instagram.

Of course, the delivery person has bolted before I reach the door and left the package neatly on my doormat. I don’t mind not seeing the postman or UPS guys each day. It's not just an avoiding COVID-19 thing, the shame of my online shopping is something best shielded through a lack of eye contact.

The beauty of online drunk shopping is that each package is a mystery. Drunk-me is sending future-me surprise gifts. I am well aware that I am not spending my evenings in a healthy or productive way, but if TikTok has taught me anything, it’s that I’m not the only one.

I place the mystery brown paper box on the bench and put the kettle on. Coffee before presents. I’ve learnt that lockdown days are long, so it’s best to drag each task out as much as possible.

I briefly consider setting my phone up to record the unboxing in high speed. If I post it online and chuck an ad on it, does it mean I can claim the expense on tax? I should probably ask my accountant about that one.

The careful packaging and thank you note enclosed tell me this is not a standard Amazon purchase. It looks more like something from a small business. Good on them, I think. I’m a sucker for an independent success story.

Buried in the tissue paper is a tiny box, and inside that box is perhaps the cutest 一 and most appropriate 一 necklace pendant I’ve seen. Encased in a small droplet of clear resin is a tiny wine bottle and matching wine glass. Somehow the creator has managed to make it look like there is still deep ruby liquid in the glass. It’s very realistic.

My own beginner’s resin set sits in the corner of my living room. I’ve used it once and discovered that I do not have the artistic flair buried inside me that I’d hoped for. Those TikTok videos make it look so easy. Arts and crafts are tempting, but drinking wine in the evenings seems so much more rewarding.

I slip the chain around my neck and admire the pendant in the mirror. It’s cute, quirky, and totally me. I hope it’s noticed during the Zoom meeting today. I know my colleagues will get a giggle out of this one.

I drain my coffee, splash some water on my face, brush my hair and apply just enough makeup to make it look like I’m keeping it together in lockdown. I angle my computer so no mess from the room behind me can be seen, and smile my way through another day of work and online meetings.

Finally, the clock on my microwave reads five o’clock so I pour myself a glass of wine. I’ve learnt to completely ignore the fact I know I run my clocks half an hour fast, and sip the wine guilt-free.

I curl up on the couch; red wine in one hand, my phone in the other. I spend an hour on TikTok watching strangers teach me about makeup, baking, small business and finance. Of course, amongst the genuinely educational videos, I allow myself to be simply entertained. That baby giggling hysterically every time his dad blows a raspberry on his belly… who can scroll past that?

At some point, it’s time for dinner and I riffle through the pantry, shoving boxes and jars aside to find a trusty packet of Mac ‘n’ Cheese. I really should do something about this pantry. The huge box of storage containers neatly stacked beside the resin kit reminds me that it’s on my to-do list. Another late night purchase. Those beautifully organised kitchens on TikTok and Facebook sucked me in, so when a well-targeted ad offered me 24 storage containers for less than $200, how could I not hit Add to Cart?

I had once attempted to get the pantry under control by taking a few things out and wiping one shelf, but to be honest, it’s far more interesting watching the one-minute transformation of other people’s kitchens online than it is to do the work yourself. Trust me.

My alarm wakes me the following day. I immediately go to the door and check for a delivery. It’s sad, but online shopping and wine have absolutely become my lockdown buddies.

A small brown box sitting on my doormat delivers the appropriate dopamine hit and I play a guessing game of what it could be while waiting for the kettle to boil. More jewellery? New sunglasses? Makeup? Stationery? Phone accessories? The possibilities are endless.

The absence of the curved arrow on the box tells me that again this one’s not from Amazon. I open it up with anticipation. It’s soap. Gorgeous soap that looks like a cupcake, but seriously… soap? Drunk-me has let today-me down. We use liquid soap in this household! We didn’t need this.

The cupcake soap smells amazing, and I immediately put it on display on the bathroom windowsill. At least today-me is thinking about drunk-me, and I know that a realistic-looking cupcake soap found in the kitchen would be at risk of having a bite taken out of it.

A mid-afternoon delivery is a welcome interruption to my work-from-home day. I’m lucky to still technically be working full-time from home, but my daily workload takes me no more than three hours to complete, which leaves ample time for procrastination and time-wasting.

I set the package on the table and wonder what it’ll be. “I’m Fragile,” declares a red sticker on the box. You and me both, I think as I use a kitchen knife to slice open the tape. This one is pretty cool. It’s one of those wine glasses with a curved bottom that wobbles around instead of sitting flat.

My microwave says it’s 4:30pm, which is almost five, so I wash the glass, fill it up and give it a go. Not a bad purchase, I decide. Wine glasses are always practical. I shall be more careful to order only useful things. There is nothing wrong with buying what I need.

By 8pm I’ve licked the cupcake soap to confirm it indeed tastes like soap and not a cupcake. Honestly, the taste test was inevitable wherever I’d displayed it. I’ve also swapped to using a normal wine glass. That wobbly one began to look more and more precarious as the night wore on.

9:00pm: I spot a coffee cup with an inspirational quote on the side, something about seizing the moment. I am an avid coffee drinker. I need coffee cups. Add to cart.

9:15pm: A journal and planner designed specifically for those working from home. Yes! I work from home. I need that. Add to cart.

9:16pm: A mini journal that matches the work from home journal at a special price if I purchase now. Yes! I need that and it’s a special deal. Add to cart.

9:28pm: A pillowslip that helps to prevent pimples. Well, I don’t have bad skin, but I also don’t want to develop bad skin… Yep, I need that. Add to cart.

9:55pm: A teeny-tiny suction thing for cleaning in between keyboard keys. I definitely need that. I’m always eating at my computer. Add to cart.

10:12pm: A bath bomb with a hidden ring inside that you find when it dissolves. How cute! Add to cart. Wait, I don’t have a bath. Remove from cart. Yay me! Only buying useful things I need.

10:14pm: A candle with a hidden ring inside that you find when it melts down. Ring can be worth up to $2,000. Candle costs $25. This is a no-brainer. Add to cart.

10:29pm: A mini herb garden set. Yes, I should start cooking more, and if I have fresh herbs I’ll be inspired to do that. Add to cart.

10:37pm: A small watering can shaped like an elephant. Needed to keep newly purchased herb garden alive. Add to cart.

10:48pm: A wine subscription. Twelve of the best bottles delivered every week. Recommended by experts and cheaper than in the shops. My wine glass is empty (not for the first time tonight, obviously). Cheers… Add to cart.