(Stands up from a plastic chair in church hall) “Hello, my name is Jonnie…and I am a convenience addict.”

The other day I was waiting at a bus stop when I saw that a single minute had been added onto my journey. I felt the concrete shock of the fall, and with no further reflection, cut my losses and summoned an Uber which rolled up in about as much time as it took the bus to turn up.

  A day later, in Iceland (frozen food empire, not landmass) I was buying chicken dippers when I found myself labouring behind two other idiots also queuing to pay for sacks of mechanically separated meat. The wait seemed so overwhelming that I instantly ditched the dippers and got straight out of Compton, Deliveroo’ing myself an overpriced pizza before i’d even hit the conveniently placed automatic doors.

 Alongside such highs as these, comes Amazon, which has stripped me of my prime and my pockets; Google Maps, which has robbed us of our journeys, turning us into end-gaming husks. The only sightseeing I do now is at my screen, with it’s taunting red pin destinations, and glowing blue paths from distant beginnings.

 It is the irrational mind that fuels any obsessive behaviour, though perhaps our addiction is not convenience, but a freedom from responsibility. 

“There are always two paths to take. One is easy, and its only reward is that it's easy.” Somebody once said. And where did I get that quote? Google