I always hated shopping. Battling the hordes of full time mothers armed with pushchairs, and roaming bands of giggling teenagers comparing mobile phones was never my idea of fun. It reached the stage where buying a new pair of jeans, or searching for a cheap toaster had become a chore of galactic proportions. There were occasions when after just five minutes on the high street I’d say screw this, return to the car, and drive home.

I could never understand what all those people were doing roaming around like sheep, plastic bags dragging the ground as if it were Christmas in July. Retail therapy? Doing this on even a semi-regular basis would put me in therapy. Which is why I’ve been having a long term love affair with the internet. And I’m not talking one stand stands either. I’m fully committed to our relationship, and prepared to invest the time and resources necessary to make it work. The benefits of abandoning the aging high street in favour of a sexy young broadband connection are many.There are no glares from FTMs screaming: “I’m a mother. I have a BABY. Get out of my way!” Tesco can switch the food aisles around for no apparent reason as often as they like without offending me, and never having to park in Kingston town centre on a Saturday afternoon does wonders for the blood pressure. The shopping experience becomes truly spontaneous. If a blogger in Sydney recommends a particular CD at four in the morning, I check it out then and there, listen to a couple of tracks, and make the purchase or not.

One of the side effects of my long term commitment to internet shopping has been selling the car. Now, this is not as crazy as it sounds. When the car no longer became necessary to carry stuff around, it tended to sit there for days or sometimes weeks on end, going nowhere and looking just a little lost. It’s in a better place now, with an owner who fully appreciates its load carrying abilities.

Public transport in London is really not bad at all, and I get a big kick out of looking at my shiny wad of brand new fifty pound notes. Though my motivations in selling the car were financial, it’s had the unintentional side effect of making me a poster child for the Green movement. I can live with this.

It’s seven in the morning and I’ve got about five minutes before I need to get ready for work. Just enough time to do the big monthly food shopping.