… Ten Pounds of Whole Wheat Pasta…

Hello.  My name is Cari, and I am a prepper.   There, I said it.  I am obsessed with buying in bulk. 

… Fifty pounds of popcorn, ten pounds of peanuts, forty-five rolls of toilet paper…  I have a storage room downstairs with two deep freezers and a six foot wide by six foot tall shelving unit chocked full of excess items.  Oh, and a huge walk-in pantry.  Food, paper products? You name it, I got it.

… A gallon jug of Frank’s Red Hot, a 36-count package of pudding snacks, four pounds of frozen broccoli florets…. I can’t help myself.  Blame the recent popularity and my fixation with the zombie apocalypse (oh, it will happen), or the fact that I hate running out of anything.  Blame it on my dislike of grocery shopping.  Blame it on my obsessive compulsiveness; only finding one heel of bread while making the kids’ lunches is like throwing a wrench into a shit storm.  I don’t know exactly how that would turn out, but it doesn’t sound good.    

…225 ounces of laundry detergent, two 24-count frozen packages of string cheese, four bottles of salad dressing… I am a methodical meal planner: the piece of printer paper (because one with lines just won’t do) is folded in half, meals on one side and my grocery list on the other. Nine meals are planned. Nine.  Not more, not less.  For the most part, I stick to my grocery list.  But I don’t write in exacts on my list, and the bigger the better, as far as frozen and indefinitely storable supplies are concerned.

… One gallon of olive oil, 500-count Ziploc sandwich baggies, 8-gallon bags of frozen homemade noodles… Grocery shopping is sequential; I start out at Aldi’s, buy what I can, then finish up at the Wal-Mart Supercenter.  I don’t know about you, but grocery shopping with three kids is not my idea of a fun time.  Anything to speed the process along is a welcome advantage in my eyes.   Once a month,  I hit Sam’s Club and buy what I can in bulk. 

… Nine quarts of canned tomatoes, 12 rolls of paper towels, a gallon of Giardiniera…  We don’t eat more, we just shop less.  My family has accepted my idiosyncrasy, and has even joined me in my effort.  Hell, I think they even enjoy our bulk escapades.  The younger kids “ooh” and “ahh” at the extra-large bag of quinoa I throw in the cart.    
… Six packages of pre-cooked rice medleys, twelve pounds of frozen ground deer meat,  1000-count bag of Solo cups (minus about 87 from our last party)…  If there was a ‘Customer of the Month’ award at Sam’s Club, I would be that.  Oh, I would so be that.  It didn’t happen overnight, my infliction.  It started out as a that’s-a-good-price-on-bacon-so-I-will-grab-an-extra-and-freeze-it way of thinking.  It slowly morphed into an oooh-if-I-buy-the-econo-size-then-I-won’t-have-to-shop-for-(item)-for-at-least-two-months

Somehow, over the course of one husband, three children, two houses, and four jobs, I have slowly transformed from a minimalist. So until the apocalypse does happen or I run out of room, l’ll be that girl, not even blinking an eye while chucking a ten pound bag of whole wheat pasta into her cart.

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