Wednesday, December 4, 2013. Well, the Thanksgiving holidays have passed, Cyber Monday is over, and I spent most of the day yesterday sleeping in to recuperate.
Right before Thanksgiving, I spent over $400 on groceries, even though I knew I wouldn’t be fixing that holiday meal at home, not to mention I only cook when I’m “in the mood,” which is usually only two or three meals a week.
I think I need a shopping companion to hurry me along, so I don’t spend literally hours in the store reading labels, and working up a hearty appetite, as I plan menus “on the fly.” I’ve tried shopping right after eating, but I ended up not getting half the stuff I needed, because I just said to myself, “I don’t really need that.” I’ve even tried using a list, but there are just so many things along the aisles that I really need, but neglect to jot down!
After all that, thanks to a snafu, I ended up at a Pitt Grill eating a rather nice Thanksgiving buffet, even though I had “Liked” and “Shared” a pledge not to shop on Thanksgiving and Christmas, so employees could enjoy the holidays with their families. (My intentions were good, honest!)
For Cyber Monday, I spent a terrible amount of money buying myself an iPad mini, and extending my service plan for another two years, for Christmas. That’s an unfortunate and compulsive pattern I have developed: spending too much, then feeling guilty . . . for awhile. Then, I go right back and do it again!
I’ve done it with clothes, too. I have so far accumulated three gray sweaters, two of them identical, and about six black, long-sleeved tops—not to mention the umpteen pairs of sandals, shoes, and boots I own. And costume jewelry—usually some to match each outfit I buy.
I used to wear the same clothes for eight to ten years or more. But, for the past two or three years, I’ve gone out and shopped for a few outfits each new season, stuffing my newest acquisitions into two walk-in closets and a very large dresser. For awhile, I tried to ditch one old, out-dated outfit for each new one I bought. But, I got bogged down thinking, “I could still wear this, and that, and that.”
I’m not sure why I shop so compulsively. I didn’t really have to go without when I was growing up, although what we had was sometimes meager, and always the store brand. (“Generic” is the politically-correct term for that now.)
Part of it is that I don’t like to get out of the house much. Volume shopping saves time, effort, and gas, so fewer shopping forays are needed. Oh! Hey! I know what I can blame!
I think my volume-shopping began with the introduction of the shopping clubs. Back then, we had three hungry teenagers at home, and the store was 30 miles away, so I tried to stock up. (Even when you just tried to get out of there with only what was on your list, the multiple-quantity packaging meant you bought at least six—or a six-month supply—of everything! Some of the spices lasted over six years!)
The other factor that I can pin my penchant for pack-ratting on is the upwardly-fluctuating price of petroleum! (Phfew!) Well, I’m just sayin’!
Right now, I’m down sick with the exact same cold or flu as my husband, who had the flu shot I opted not to get this year. Maybe my “shoppers remorse” has gotten the better of me. Oh, well. To quote the Italians, “Que sera sera.” (What will be, will be.) Or, as the French would say,“C’est la vie!” (That’s life!)
Thursday, December 5, 2013. It’s 2 am, and why am I not lost in REM sleep, or blissfully snoring like my husband?
I tried. I really did. For the past two nights, I went to sleep at 9 and 10 respectively, but both nights I woke up at 1 am. I’m either too hot, or too cold, or I have leg twitches from neuropathy. Or my 16-pound cat hogs all the covers so I can’t turn over!
Right now, I’m a little warm. It’s a balmy 72 degrees outside, here in southwest Louisiana, while most of the country is being blasted with an Arctic cold front. My feral cat, Buttons is curled up in the chair beside me. He usually tries to keep my crazy hours, but he cheats now and then, with a little cat-nap here and there!
Sometimes, he gets bored with my incessant blogging, and goes from doorway to doorway, meowing to go out of the room. We keep the bedroom doors closed at night, to cut down on midnight cat-races. We have two cats, who are, of course, nocturnal, and it’s really surprising how loud is the thumping of furry little feet, when one’s grip on sleep is precarious at best!