Confident that my dad would handle the remaining funds, I wasted no time and headed straight to a warehouse supermarket, simultaneously placing quick orders on Amazon.
On Amazon:
Pasta: 6 bags x 50 large bags.
Instant Hot Dogs: 3 servings x 50 boxes.
5 bags of pepper: x 50 large bags.
Canned sardines: 10 boxes.
Ketchup: 100 packs.
Box of 10 Cookies.
Milk powder: 20 packs.
After assessing addresses in surrounding cities, I strategically filled in different delivery locations to throw off potential nosy neighbors. Fearing any courier mishaps, I decided to supplement the online orders by personally going to the supermarket for essentials like rice and noodles.
For my shopping expedition, I used a small truck similar to the ones my dad's construction workers typically employed.
Supermarket Haul:
Rice: 20kg x 200 bags.
Flour: 20kg x 200 bags.
Instant noodles: 24 bags x 20 boxes.
Mineral water: 12 bottles x 50 bottles.
Coke: 12 bottles x 5 boxes.
Tofu skin: 20 packs.
Salt: 60 packs.
Polish yeast: 100 packs.
As I observed the staff loading my minivan with supplies, a sudden realization hit me – I forgot to include water. Panicking, I hastily messaged my dad, urging him to order water. Thankfully, my reliable dad assured me that he had already ordered 200 barrels and would call again tomorrow.
Once again, luck was on my side with a wealthy and cautious dad. The house, with ample space, boasted top-notch security, a common trait among the affluent.
Following my mom's advice, steeped in countless apocalyptic articles, it dawned on me that my initial purchases were insufficient. Acting on her counsel, my family urgently decided to install a solar power generation device. With gas supplies expected to dwindle, becoming self-sufficient in electricity became imperative.
The next morning, I wasted no time and headed straight to the supermarket:
10 lithium batteries for household use.
5 Air Fryers.
10 small pots.
10 electric cooking pots.
2 heaters.
10 boxes of self-heating patches.
10 boxes of cooling stickers.
10 thick quilts.
10 thin quilts.
2,000 sets of disposable underwear.
20 large towels (better to be prepared).
10 sets of thermal clothing per person.
20 bottles of 3.5L laundry detergent.
50 bottles of 2L dishwashing liquid.
20 boxes of vinegar.
60 barrels of 5L oil.
I grabbed two bottles of every shower gel brand and flavor available – better safe than sorry. As I reached the checkout, a sudden realization hit me – the insect plague might be over, but what about pesticides? Despite the potential toxicity, I decided to stock up with an additional 20 boxes of insecticide. One advantage of warehouse supermarkets is that no matter how much you buy, you won't receive strange looks.
Concerning meat storage, we concluded that large freezers would take up too much space. My dad opted for more sausages and canned goods. The spacious home allowed for strategic placement, with water stored in different rooms to address load-bearing concerns.
The original plan was to buy 19L x 2000 barrels of water, along with various drinks like mineral water, Coke, and Sprite. After unloading these essentials at home, I went back out for snack. Mid-shopping spree, I remembered I hadn't purchased wipes and paper towels, so I promptly cleared out the entire shelf.
While passing the canned goods aisle, a stroke of gratitude struck me. I scooped up canned fruit with a shelf life of 540 days, feeling blessed. On a whim, I called the manager and ordered 20 boxes each of the latest canned oranges, canned apples, canned yellow peaches, canned oolong peaches, and canned pipa.
Feeling a faint inkling that it might not be enough, I brushed off the thought and decided to continue the shopping spree tomorrow.