I mentioned in a previous post that I'd been wondering what to spend some of my birthday money on and that I'd decided to invest in The Midlife Manual (plus a fab cookbook, but more about that later) via that portal of all things useful and wonderful, Amazon.co.uk.
Before I came to the UK, I was oblivious to the behemoth that is Amazon and it was only when I got the way the whole Wish List thing worked (and saw some of the terrifyingly large numbers on postage stickers from Australia) that I started to fall for its charms. It is quite simply the place to find everything...and collect a few Nectar points along the way (when one remembers to use their card!) and the Wish List is definitely the way to manage the tyranny of long distance gifting.
So on Thursday, Reception called to let me know that an Amazon parcel had been delivered for me. I could not wait to get downstairs and I gleefully tore the cardboard strip down the package to reveal two books that:
a) I'd ordered online 6 days earlier; and
b) knew were coming because I'd received an email to say they had been despatched the day before.
No surprises. No special gifts. Just exactly what I'd ordered.
The voice in my head (you know, the one in sensible shoes) tutted softly in the background at my impatient voracity in tearing the package open right there in Reception, while the other voice (the one in the ridiculously fabulous stilettos), purred contentedly as I entered the lift again, cradling The Midlife Manual and Fast, Fresh and Green possessively to my chest.
What is it about receiving an Amazon parcel that provokes such unadulterated joy and pleasure?
1 comment:
Hi, Kym. I admire your lack of reserve in tearing open your parcels. I always feel a little self conscious when my doorman hands one to me. I tend to mutter something like: "Oh, must be that prescription for my dogs" -- even though I know it's the half-price Wolford tights I ordered from Bare Necessities (and so does he, since the return address is on the package). I wouldn't dare open anything, not even books (esp not books revealing my midlife crisis) in front of him. But after reading your post, perhaps I'll show a little more moxy. p.s. Like your blog's new look!
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