Meathwoman's Diary: Did I really spend that much?

There’s a particular kind of optimism that comes with saying you’re “just popping in for a few things”.

It’s a small lie we tell ourselves regularly. You head into the shop with the best of intentions... milk, bread, maybe something small for dinner. In and out. Ten minutes, max.

And yet, somehow, you emerge 20 minutes later, receipt in hand, wondering how exactly it added up to that.

It’s never one big item. That would almost make sense.

It’s the small things that do it. The bits you didn’t plan for but seem necessary in the moment. Something for lunches, something for dinners, something because you’re already there.

And suddenly, your “few things” shop has quietly turned into something else entirely.

There’s a strange kind of disbelief that comes with it. You look at the total, mentally go through what’s in the bag, and still can’t quite match the two up.

Because when you get home and unpack it all, there’s nothing extravagant staring back at you. No big, glamorous luxury items to soften the blow just the basics you needed in the first place.

And that’s the part people are noticing more now.

Because even without sitting down to analyse it, there’s a sense that everything has crept up bit by bit. The weekly shop, the heating, the fuel. You nearly need to brace yourself before looking at the numbers on the pump like a slot machine, waiting for them to stop changing and hoping they might somehow land in your favour.

Nothing dramatic. Just that quiet recalculating people are doing all the time.

You notice it in small habits. The extra glance at the price. The moment of hesitation before putting something in the trolley. The mental running total that follows you around the shop whether you like it or not.

You might even go in with a plan, a proper list, determined to stick to it this time only for it to slowly unravel aisle by aisle.

You pause a bit longer. Put one or two things back. Decide you’ll come back for something later - though you’re not quite sure when.

And still, you leave with more than you meant to spend. Of course, nothing really changes the next time. You still head in for “a few things”. You still believe it.

And you still walk out wondering how it happened again.

At this stage, it’s not the shopping that’s surprising - it’s that we’re still surprised by it.

And chances are, we’ll say the very same thing again the next time we head through the doors.