Last week I kept one eye on the mailbox, because I was expecting a package from Amazon. Which is not unusual - I'm expecting a package from Amazon most of the time. In fact, I wonder if I'm slightly addicted to online shopping. I enjoy the routine of opening the mailbox: inserting the key with "Dad" engraved on it into the dubious lock, which would not deter even the most inept thief. And discovering a cardboard sleeve with a book in it is much more fun than finding yet another tax demand (I'm convinced the French government will soon have all my pay wired directly into its bank account).
I wouldn't be the first person with a shopping addiction. There's even a name for it: oniomania. Lindsay Lohan allegedly ran up a $5,000 online shopping bill in rehab. And since global online spending is expected to reach $1.50 trillion this year (according to internetretailer.com), Lindsay and me clearly aren't alone.
I was nervous when bought my first book on Amazon, back in 1999. It was about the photographer Lee Miller. I was convinced that my card details would be stolen and used by Colombian drug dealers to buy assault rifles. But no. It worked like a charm and I've never looked back. Maybe one day I'll just order digital books for a tablet. But where's the anticipation? Where's the package, waiting to be ripped open? For now, I'd rather keep an eye on the mail.
