When the question arises of whether I prefer to drive to a mall to shop (or even down to my quaint little town) or let my fingers do the walking, there’s no doubt that I prefer to shop from home. It could be that I’m lazy but I don’t think that’s the whole answer. The fact is, I never really enjoyed going shopping, mostly because walking and standing have always given me trouble thanks to Mr. Polio. But I am kind of lazy, too.
Still, finding a place to park close to where I want to be is usually a pain—even in my small town. If I go to a mall, there are the crowds. The anchor stores are (duh!) at opposite ends of the mall, which can feel like miles by the end of the day. However, I get to try things on in a store. I can feel the fabric and find accessories easily. I used to enjoy shopping—when I was twenty. But now…?
In the time it takes to go to 2 stores and try on clothes, I can search 20 
online. Of course, I admit that there are difficulties with shopping from a computer screen. The colors are not always true. The clothes don’t always fit and have to be sent back. Orders don’t always arrive and then there is the hassle with refunds. But for the most part, I’ve been pretty happy over the years, plugging my credit card into the slot on the side of the computer. (That is how it works, isn’t it?) And as stores continue to add online to their shopping options, I get happier and happier.
What is your preference for shopping?
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.
Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.
I suppose if you knew that I’d been a long-distance trucker it wouldn’t surprise you to know that I’d rather drive then fly whenever I can. Flying used to be fun—back when there were fewer travelers, when I was in college and could still dash from one gate to another, and when a size 10 still fit the seats. Need I say that none of those things work for me anymore?
to be relaxed in the west of the U.S. than in the crowded east, but even there I just like having some control over my life with my hands on the wheel. I try not to let people push me. I find a comfortable speed and hang in there. If someone wants to go faster, there’s usually a way to pass. Mores the pity, though, because I’m watching the signs, wondering where the people in all the cars are going, and who lives in that pretty blue house on the right side of the road. Life is good. Oh yeah, and I might spend a passing moment following the contrails of a jet overhead.