Hello, my name is Barbara, and I’m an addict, but perhaps I need to qualify that statement. No, I don’t crave a crack pipe, and I’m not mad for meth. You will never find a needle, a bottle or a bong in my bedroom. Nor, will you ever catch me crouched in front of a dumpster hoping to find a left over pizza crust or some fast food fries somebody has left behind. Actually I am a bit of a foodie, but if I was going to go that route, I would hope to hang out near the Whole Foods bin or lurking in the back of a four star eatery. My addiction, however, is far more insidious and much more accepted by mainstream society. Yes, I am a junkie alright, but the monkey on my back may not be what you think.
My main drug of choice is Amazon, and I don’t mean that distant locale of rain forests and unpolluted beauty. It is Amazon shopping that beckons me with its siren call of convenience, value and exotic food items from faraway ports.
I confess that I have not always been true to Amazon and have, at times, been seduced by email alerts that I seem to have signed up for. At times I have rushed into the welcoming arms of Macy’s, Abe’s Market and Pier One Imports to name a few. What could I do? They were having one-day sales, and such deals might never come up again in my lifetime. I have succumbed to their allure, but, somehow, my heart always returns to it’s first online love…Amazon.
I love to read, and I like to cook, so I have managed to amass a ridiculous amount of cookbooks. When they first show up, I look through them marveling at the glossy pages and amazing photography. I imagine rustling up a praise-worthy feast, but I usually don’t, because online recipes are so accessible. Besides, when you have a kazillion cookbooks, it’s hard to remember what recipe is in what book, and who has the motivation to even try? Lest you think I’m lost in my cookbook addiction, be aware that I have gone through them at least three times recently and given away copious amounts, because I have no room for all of these books, and somewhere inside me there is a minimilist trying to emerge and live the simple, unclutterd life. The minimilist and the hoarder are at odds with each other, and I’m not going to tell you who seems to be winning. Just don’t look under my bed, and be careful not to trip over any potruding cookware lest you sustain an injury. Remember you have been warned.
Sometimes I go weeks without ordering anything, and I think I have conquered my addiction, but just when I become overly confident, I forget that pride goeth before the fall. Perhaps I can locate a 12-step program. I will find a sponsor, and when I put too many items in my shopping cart in the midnight hour, they will receive a frantic phone call. AA members use something called THE BIG BOOK to guide them in their recovery, and I should probably pick one up, cause I think it will be a valuable aid.
Do you think Amazon carries it?