I know that we are all stressed out during this Covid pandemic and everyone might be on a shorter fuse than normal. However, I just assumed decent customer service might still be expected, especially when I “buy” your smile in the form of an extra tip.

This tip was lost on the woman wearing a large crucifix necklace who delivered my groceries and was so rude to me, I honestly didn’t even know how to react. 

Today, I ordered my normal amount of groceries, which included two of the smaller cases of water (I usually buy the biggest size water, maybe a 48 count, and I broke it down into two cases of 24 so that the shopper wouldn’t have to haul a huge case of water up my stairs), and a lot of sports drinks for Richy. I have a friendly text conversation with this shopper about things that have to be substituted and refunded, etc… During this exchange, I texted her the following: “Oh, just while I’m thinking about it… I don’t know why, but Instacart never tells you guys that I am in an upstairs apartment over a house. When you come up… come through the side gate and up the stairs outside. No one lives downstairs…” Clearly I live upstairs; at least I thought this was clear.

Well, she finishes the shopping and arrives at my house. I meet her at the door so she doesn’t have to try to hold groceries and knock. So, this woman comes up the stairs with a load of groceries, and proceeds to let me know that I have several large items and now she has to bring them upstairs, and maybe next time I “should rethink my grocery order”. I was so surprised, I just sort of did a triple blink and said “Okay” with what I know was the most fake smile in the world plastered across my face. I think she realized she must have said something pretty crappy, because she was nice and smiling the rest of the time (including when she brought the rest of my groceries back after forgetting to leave the toilet paper and bread). I had no words. My daughter was on speaker phone with me at the time and she was livid.

I have my groceries delivered because 1. I am disabled; and 2. I am immunocompromised and cannot be out in the Covid crap just yet. And yes I AM aware that my steps are a bitch and I tip extra just for that. I’m just so appalled that someone who signed up voluntarily to do this delivery service had the audacity to expect me to change my order to meet their standards. I’m really just stunned. Also, my daughter was ready to come through the phone at this woman.

I didn’t take back the tip, but I really have no idea what possessed this woman to come at me sideways that way. I kind of feel like if you can’t be bothered to deliver groceries to an upstairs apartment, maybe YOU should rethink signing up with a delivery service.

I apologize that today is a bit of a rant, but it’s not like I don’t give a damn about having people come up and down my stairs with a bunch of groceries, but I didn’t MAKE them deliver them… they signed up for this. I have always (excepting today) also handed every other delivery person an extra $5.00 bill because I feel bad about the stairs, and I don’t know if they get 100% of the tip I leave on the app. But not today. I really had to stop myself from Sparta-Kicking her down my staircase. There’s just no point in being so hateful.

Captain’s Log: Quarantine Day 978

Captain’s Log: Quarantine Day 978

I have been watching cooking shows for three days now. I’ve been actively dieting for two months. The two activities are NOT compatible. 

It all began when I saw a new cooking show on Netflix called Cooked With Cannabis. I love to cook, and to watch cooking shows, so this was not only right up my alley, it also sounded fun. Well, just so you know, it is a cute show and I learned a few odd bits about using cannabis in cooking and what makes things psychoactive or non-psychoactive, etc… During all of this “baking”, I realized I hadn’t made homemade (in a bread machine, but whatever) bread in a while, so I decided a loaf of bread was exactly what I needed to make. I forgot however, that bread smells absolutely goddamn delicious while it bakes. 

I tried so hard to ignore it. I drank water. I ate a banana. I drank more water. I tried to cure the craving for fresh, hot, bread by eating yogurt, and cheese and even a few chips with hummus. It was all to no avail, my body ached for that warm, soft, perfect loaf. It wanted lashings of melty butter and – oh god, what if I put some gooey honey on top of that? I ate half of the contents of my fridge trying to avoid this carb overload. It turns out I should have just eaten the damn bread. Not only did I end up eating my weight in bread and butter, I ate all of that other food trying to quell my craving. 

As I’m writing this post, I have found myself watching  Iron Chef on Hulu playing in the background. I also had a grocery order delivered about half an hour ago. I am in the position now of:

  1. Being a tad hungry because of my diet.
  2. Craving five-star food because I’m watching Iron Chef.
  3. Having access to a crap-ton of food because I’m now fully supplied thanks to InstaCart.

Jesus take the wheel. Help me. Send reinforcements and a muzzle. I do not need to be left unsupervised around all of this food along with access to limitless cooking shows. I am going to end up coming out of this quarantine looking like a hairless water buffalo (see picture). It is not going to be pretty.

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I must remember to make the rations last. I must remember that I am a chubby little goblin and must continue my weight loss journey. I must remember how nice it feels to have lost twelve pounds. I must continue this log entry, but honestly, I think I’m going to go eat.