Dear Amazon

By: Peggy Willms

(5 min read)

A while back, I shared my thoughts on developing car washes for attitudes which you can find at this link https://allthingswellness.com/peggy-willms/the-attitude-car-wash/). Today, after a very frustrating experience regarding traffic, home repairs, and idiots, I realized I need Amazon in a way I have never needed them before.

I am not a shopaholic by any means. Shopping for me is a necessity. Hungry – shop. Need a shirt – shop. Out of gas – shop. Case closed. If I do not need something or it’s not gifting time, you won’t catch me browsing through town shops or letting my fingers do the walking online. Therefore, I wasn’t shocked years ago when I received my 5 Love Language test results, and Receiving Gifts was fourth out of five, with touch ranked at 0% – literally zero out of 30 questions. What a blast I am…don’t give me anything or touch me. At least I am a cheap date. After all these years, Dana finally figured out all the cute little special personal lovely things are not that cute little special personal and lovely to me. Don’t get me wrong, I am not a jackass when he gives me gifts, but I often find it difficult to accept if it isn’t necessary. For the record, I am a hugger.

This morning started out lovely. Great mood. Positive intentions were set for the day. Our To Do list is ready to go. The main goal was to check on the carpentry work at our home, and I wanted to do yard work. We haven’t lived there for 11 days, and I usually work on the yard bits daily. It is a stress reliever for me. We planned to shop for necessities along the way, get the mail, go to the barber – yes, we both go to the same Barber Shop (hi, Ziggy), and head back to the hotel. From the get-go to this second, I got more and more irritable. Yeah, me…huh. I should have ridden a unicorn.

The events rolled like this. My fingers hit the keyboard per usual before 6 AM. I consumed my protein bar and my first cup of coffee simultaneously. All is well so far. I shopped online for my sons and grandson for Christmas (necessity – not out of boredom). Done and not even 9. All is still well. We jumped on the road at 10 AM and headed to the house. Here is where it all starts rolling downhill.

You could feel the tension on the roads. There were drivers, I swear, who must have intentionally woke up this morning with a gameplay – drive 20 m.p.h. slower in each lane, then speed up to break-check you. And I felt all of them were staring me down with Joker smiles. Now I don’t get road rage because it is not only a waste of time but a waste of energy. But yet, I felt the tension in my orbit rising.

We stopped at Ross so I could grab two more hats. I am living in hats these days, at least for the next three-plus months. Living in a hotel has robbed my desire to doll up or be Mohawk presentable 24/7. I have a new reputation now. I am the lady in the baseball cap who works all the time on her computer. I cannot count how many people have asked what I do, or I have heard chit-chatting about me when they think they are out of my ear’s reach. “She’s always working…wonder what she does?” Yes, I work by the pool, in the lobby, out front on the wicker furniture, and while standing in the tiki bar. Why would I sit in a hotel room all day and work? My point – I needed to buy more hats as my other 50 are packed in storage.

As I enter the Ross department store doors, I hear an insane piercing noise. I want to scream, “Who is trying to steal a Michael Kors purse?” NO ONE was doing a hootin’ hollerin’ thing about the screeching. The lingering irritability rose around me and in me. GIVE ME A HAT, my mind spewed. I grabbed a hot pink Puma and a cool vintage, rust-colored flex cap. The one where your mother might say, “Why would you buy that? It looks like it has already has been worn.”

After I got in a fight with the self-check register, which didn’t want my cash – “only debit or credit,” I got to hell out of there only to get back in the truck for Dana to say, “Oh when we were here the other day (yes, we were in there the other day; ugh) I was going to get you that pink hat.” I thought, “Then why in the hell didn’t you? I wouldn’t have to be here right now!” The first time I would love a gift. Necessity. I would never say such a thing, but today, I thought about it.

We hit the highway. Zigzagging in and out and out and in left to right, right to left was every make of two-seater shifter you can imagine. It was like there were Fast and Furious tryouts, and we missed the memo. The energy continued to thicken around me. Grrr Boo Hiss. I could feel it bubbling. We finally arrived at the house, and I will not disclose details except that we learn of extra repairs needed on each visit, and today was no exception. Discovering mold in the refrigerator was also great fun. We had emptied and unplugged it when we left. Damn, we should have left the doors open.

Then the real pissah happened. What was the main reason we went to the house? Do you remember?  Yardwork! I couldn’t get to the mower batteries, which sat on the workbench in the farthest corner. Why? Because everything we own is still jammed into the garage, which was supposed to be loaded into air-conditioned pods by now. So, I can’t mow. )$*#@_ #fuhgetaboutit. I am a freak about my yard, so this is not a super cool outcome. I try to take a deep breath. NEXT.

I watered and talked to my plants, and we headed off for haircuts. My barber texted that he isn’t available (Ziggy, love you), ugh. I will come back next week. No one else touches my hair. Off to the bank where the parking lot looks like they were having a mass sale on lines of credit. Grabbing the mail was next. Is mail ever fun? Seriously? Oh, this is good. I have a lovely Christmas card from my accountant reminding me that my taxes are due in three short months and that I owe her $400 for this year’s. How in the hell did I forget to pay for that? SHOOT ME.

We eventually get on the highway and head back to our home away from home. There are cops everywhere. E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E. By now, I am elbow-deep into the holiday treats our neighbor gave us. I have eaten one of everything. Pretzely, carmely, pecany, popcorny thingees. Damn, I wish I had more coffee. I note that even the blinking billboards have an attitude today. They aren’t just flashing a light hue of lavender recommending you hire Jack, John, and Harry, LLC when you are rear-ended, but the boards are screaming psychedelic crystal shards in my eyes. And I forgot my sunglasses. Can I possibly make this up?! On our return trip, apparently, the race cars head north and now heading south you are run over by lifted off-road trucks that certainly do not scream Saltwater Living. We went from Porsche 911 GT3 racing on the first leg of our trip to lifted Ford F250s with 24-inch alloy rims. What dimension am I in? I need a nap, a jug of whisky, or I need AMAZON. And I don’t nap, drink or like to shop online. But I pause…hmm, Amazon.

Dear Jeffie Bezos,

Wazzup, Buttercup? I have an idea. But I want royalties for this one because it is a gem. Let’s create an Emotion Department. You know how you can filter Home and Garden or Fashion? Emotion Department it is. Shoppers take a pre-screen, then dependent on the outcome, they are shifted to the appropriate “feels” division and go shopping—filters for anger, depression, anxiety, joy, and more. Maybe chocolates and a comedy flick for depression or massagers for those who are pissed off.

I know this will be a challenge for you to identify what emotions and items make sense as you tend to have more of an even keel, resting bitch face approach, but it is okay; I’ve got your back. Just think, you might lure peeps like me to shop more and other whackos out there to chill out.

With hope, Peggy

Peggy Willms
                                                                     All Things Wellness, LLC
                                                                  peggy@allthingswellness.com

The information provided is the opinion of the author. It is not a substitute for professional medical advice: diagnosis, or treatment. The author, the business, All Things Wellness, LLC, and its owner Peggy Willms, are not liable for risks or issues associated with using or acting upon the information in this article or website. We assume no responsibility for tangible and intangible damages such as physical harm caused by using a product, loss of profits or loss of data, and defamatory comments. This post may contain affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I may earn from qualifying purchases.