Walmart grocery pickup has been my song for about three months now. Right on my way home from work, it saves tons of time. As long as I arrive before 5:00pm, the wait is brief. Almost all of my substitutes have been exciting; usually it means an upgrade — a better brand, or more quantity for the same price.

Pickup also saves us money because I can watch the price at the bottom of my online cart (note: you have to order a minimum of $30). I can mix and match and edit meal plans halfway through my shopping. If I need to, I can take a couple days to build the cart and submit it during my lunch break.

There were only two times pickup was almost a problem. The first was when the workers were confused by a mix-up with my sister’s groceries because we both have our accounts under our maiden last name.

The second time was when Luke was with me. I had bragged about how speedy and positive grocery pickup was, but for some reason, instead of the usual six minutes, it took half an hour from them to bring out our bags. He said, “We could have just gone in and out ourselves faster.” He was right because he is Mr. Efficient.

But me, on the other hand… I’ve decided that the most important reason I love grocery pickup is because stores overwhelm me and erase all efficiency from me.

Recently I was lamenting to my sister about how I wanted to make chocolate chip pumpkin bars but I didn’t think I had enough butter. After she judged me a little for not having enough butter on hand, she asked, “You know, normal people just go to the store. They just physically walk in, get the butter and leave.”

I better just google a recipe that doesn’t require butter.

Because when I go into Walmart, I get culture shock. Sensory overload. I wonder if I should buy cheddar Parmesan popcorn. I get hungry. I wish America would sell fresh produce in markets like they do overseas and stop pushing shelf-life products. I form lofty child-raising philosophies on the spot. I consider writing a book about how to navigate grocery aisle intersections. I’m so busy praying for the salvation of strangers, I forget what I’m looking for in the cosmetics aisle. I fall for the sample trick and buy women’s multi-vitamin gummies. I waste time reading titles of cereals I will never buy. There’s just so many choices. I contemplate the beauty of capitalism. By this time, I’m not sure I need butter after all because there won’t be time to make the dessert now.

So…pros and cons, right?

In this season I shall enjoy virtual shopping from my couch and content myself with an occasional pop into the store with Luke for a reminder to pray for humanity and that efficiency is possible.

But no special trips for butter if it can possibly be avoided.