Despite the warning signs and the prepper instinct passed on to me from my father, I refused to stockpile. Then it was too late.

Despite the warning signs and the prepper instinct passed on to me from my father, I refused to stockpile. Then it was too late.

Those that know me will know Ive been pretty lassiez faire about coronavirus. Dont get me wrong, I have been liberally using anti-bacterial hand gel (a gift from HR), religiously wiping down my desk, and following all the official guidance. But, compared to many of those around me I have remained pretty unphased. 
My colleague, on the other hand? Not so much. Shes kept me up to date with her stockpiling mission: one day its pasta by the kilo, the next shes bulk buying tinned vegan mac and cheese (the fact shed choose to eat this in a crisis caused me more concern than Covid-19 itself). But it seemed that every day she hoarded something new, so did the rest of the nation.
Over the course of the outbreak, the hashtag #panicbuyinguk has been trending on Twitter, with many people sharing photos of empty aisles.
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News broke that supermarkets had begun rationing produce after worried shoppers began stockpiling in preparation for coronavirus-related shortages. Yet, despite all this and my paternal prepper instinct I refused to entertain my colleagues idea of hoarding legumes and ordering a lifes supply of hand soap.  
Well, more fool me. When I tried to do my weekly shop at the weekend, I was faced with what can only be described as post-apocalyptic supermarket scenes. The very thing I had been warned of. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have been so bad, but since going plastic-free my dinnertime delights have depended almost exclusively on the availability of tinned goods. So with the legume aisle looking sparse, I returned from the shop clutching all but a broccoli and a pack of Linda McCartney sausages. At this point, it dawned on me that I wasn’t going to last a minute in self-isolation.
As a result, I began searching for alternatives. I planned on swapping my weekly trip to the supermarket with a Sainsburys delivery (it came out trumps owing to its loose produce aisle). Sounded easy enough. But, after the painstaking process of doing my online shop adding black beans, chickpeas, and loose veg to my basket by the kilo I discovered I wasnt the only one with this clever idea. With the next delivery a week away, I realised I should’ve listened. I tried other sites but quickly learnt the issue was across all supermarkets, with Ocado warning customers that more people than usual were placing large orders, resulting in delivery slots selling out quicker than expected. 
With bagging the ideal delivery near impossible, I dont stand much chance when it comes to quarantine. Whether we should be stockpiling or not is a different matter, but without the privilege of being able to afford regular takeaways (not to mention the fact these often come in single-use plastic packaging) or the freedom of grabbing an emergency ready meal, Im starting to worry.
So, until I secure the ideal slot, the idea of tinned vegan mac and cheese doesnt sound so bad after all. Chloe, I hope youll have me?

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