With peace and love, I do not want to pay for any more subscriptions or download any more apps

You have my toilet roll, razor blades, TV programmes and now you want my McDonalds order?

This weekend, me and the girls had a cheeky McDonalds breakfast. No, we weren’t hungover, we just decided we really wanted one whilst we were watching Gladiators on my sofa the night previous.

Before I could recite my memorised list of customised McMuffins, the voice through the intercom asked me if I was using the McDonalds app.

I have 68,206 photos on my phone, do you think that:

A) I have room for an app that tracks every time I roll up to the drive through and…

B) Want to track how many nuggets I’ve consumed in the last year?

Obviously, no.

I’ve discussed my hatred of supermarket loyalty cards on here before. Since then, even the Co-Op has started one and I swear the pricing has got worse.

Why am I paying more for my groceries because I don’t want to give even more of my data to even more companies? I genuinely, think there needs some kind of government intervention.

How does this relate back to McDonalds? Well, they are pushing their app because they are also testing “Smarter pricing” with their loyalty scheme.

If it’s not apps and loyalty schemes testing me, it’s subscriptions.

I just signed up to a free 3 month trial of Apple TV, which I know I will forget to cancel.

I’m blaming Netflix for this, because their multiple household policy means I can no longer share my account with my parents.

Considering how much my Mum and Dad have done for me, it feels kind of shitty to kick them off. Plus, what’s another subscription when I already have Disney Plus, Now TV, Spotify, Amazon Prime and YouTube Premium.

Oh, and a membership to my favourite YouTube channel: H3, because I want to support their show.

Wait, I also have multiple subscriptions within my Amazon Prime because that is now a thing apparently.

So, I also have a subscription to Paramount + because that’s where Lyra can watch new Paw Patrol because a girl must have access to Mighty Pups and MGM because I wanted to watch Silence of the Lambs and obviously forgot to cancel my free trial.

Then there’s my toilet roll: Who Gives A Crap. Yes, I want to buy eco friendly toilet roll, but living alone means that despite delaying my shipments, I have stashes in my airing cupboard, kitchen cupboard and even in a cool box.

At least I’ll never get caught short, I suppose.

Don’t even get me started on my razor either. I love my Estrid and for some reason, thought it would be a good idea to sign up for subscription blades.

If Croydon have a blade amnesty, I could genuinely contribute with the amount of replacement heads I have.

Every time that little pink package arrives, I curse myself for not cancelling it and as soon as that thought comes… it goes. Until the next round arrives.

There’s so many times I’ve almost got caught out on Amazon because I didn’t click ‘one time only purchase’ and instead signed up to a never-ending supply of Blue Tak.

Now, it’s extended to written media and more and more websites are now behind a pay wall.

As a writer myself, I’m so torn. I believe that people should be paid for their work, but every time that pop up box appears, I just close the tab and try to find the information elsewhere.

Then, today, I got an email from Substack, telling me that some of you lovely people had pledged over $1,000 in subscriptions.

I hovered over the bright orange “Accept payments” button, but honestly, I just can’t do it.

I’m so grateful to all of you who have signed up to this Substack and honestly, I would rather monetise it another way.

Ultimately, I want everyone to be able to read my content and maybe I’ll change my mind in the future, but with my current subscription fatigue, I just can’t do it to myself or to you.