.... random rants and rambles. no agenda. yet.

Although he's always ever so nice and smiley, I'm quite sure our postman hates me at the moment because of the things I keep ordering online from Amazon, which obviously has some kind of clever computer programme that generates specially-targetted marketing at gullible mugs like me. For example, I got a maternity-related email from them the other day, informing me that I could buy a Bump Band for a fiver, so I did, because the other one that C has (which cost insanely more than a fiver) gets used a lot and she could do with another one.

And why, might you ask, do pregnant ladies like wearing oversized headbands around their middles? Good question. Apparently it's something to do with holding up your trousers and filling any gaps and um, looking fashionably layered. Whatever!

Ce would probably not agree with me, but I am constantly amazed, and rather suspicious, at how you can buy something which is discounted by 75% and then have it sent to you to arrive before 1pm the very next day FOR FREE! Yes, I have joined this Amazon Prime trial thingy which sends things, like, 10 minutes after you've ordered them (I know this because I tried to cancel something I'd just bought the other day and it was too late(!)) so that you can get them the next day, whether you want to or not. I do that because it's free, and because it's kind of fascinating, not because C has an urgent need for a brand new Bump Band that she MUST wear TOMORROW.

It makes me feel ever so guilty because I keep imagining all the people in the Amazon warehouse rushing around amongst miles and miles of shelves, locating the right item, rushing to package it, throwing it in a van, which drives to the airport, where it is loaded on a plane, which fliiiiiiiiiiies far, lands, unloads it and then takes it to a depot, where it is loaded into another van, sorted, and ends up in our lovely postman's bag. Then, he walks up our steps in the rain, infallibly smiling, knocks on the door and gives it to me so that I can apologise for the rain and sign for it.

And THEN it gets returned to them because I stupidly ordered the WRONG item, and they have to do all of that over again, but in reverse.

Insane.

In other news, C has joined Freecycle [go on, you know you want to!], which is rather amusing because she's now getting 10,000 emails a minute or something like that and she keeps making lists and saying things like, "But how do you choose who gets it?!" It was also the source of mild embarrassment this morning when I answered the door with crazy hair, wearing my pyjamas and some random items of clothing that I found on the bedroom floor, to find a woman looking at me rather uncertainly.

"Are you C?" she asked.
"No, I'm J!"
[Woman looks confused]
"Have you come for the soil?"
[Woman looks very relieved] "Yes!"

And the moral of the story is; someone always wants your crap, even if you've forgotten they were coming for it.