Guilty Obsessions


We all have guilty pleasures in life. For some people, it’s that one piece of chocolate stashed away in the goody drawer that they just have to have. For others, it’s a song. Many of us have that one song that we highly dislike for the lack of a better word, and yet when it comes on, we sing along. I believe it’s because we secretly like it. But because it’s so terrible, we subconsciously choose to block the fact that we like it, and we do it so well, that even we ourselves believe that we hate it. Either way, it’s up there on the classic guilty pleasures list.

My personal guilty pleasure is above and beyond worse than any guilty pleasure out there. I’m almost tempted to call myself an addict, but I won’t just yet. One word – Sale. Who can pass up a good sale? Once in a while it’s okay, but my brain seems to believe that every single sale out there must be attended and everything must be bought. If that doesn’t take place, naturally I’m missing out on the world’s greatest activities. How does one stop this nonsense?

The term “Shopaholic” is a thing nowadays, it seems. I think that’s a cop out honestly. I mean, you can’t control your urges, and all of a sudden you’re a blank-aholic?  No, no honey, own up to your shit, and admit the fact that you’re just plain obsessed. If you don’t buy those sparkly little “adorable” earrings that would go so perfectly with that little clutch you bought at that one sale, a long time ago, that you never wore, guess what, your body isn’t going to go through a physical withdrawal like that of an alcoholic who’s refusing a cocktail after years of drinking for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You’ll be fine.

Now, if you’re swimming in money, by all means… Go nuts. At that point, it doesn’t matter what you call it – addiction, hobby, boredom, etc. Most of us however are on a budget, and from a mathematical point of view, taking advantage of every sale that comes your way, simply makes no sense.

Let’s say you walk into a store, and attack the Clearance rack. Who cares that it’s last season? You’re mainly concerned with the quality of the stuff you’re buying anyway. “Fashion ins and outs are for the rich”, you think to yourself. So you see this awesome shirt – 80%off –Sold! Followed by these amazing pants – $10 – What?! These perfectly lined, with a perfect seam, perfectly fabulous pants, for just $10? “I spend more on breakfast and I’ll never see it again”, you tell yourself. Mind goes into justification mode. Done. Add to cart. Next. Oh! Lipstick – $2. Good lipstick too, must stock up. Let’s get one in every shade. Followed by pretty tank tops and underwear – can never have too many of those… And so on. Next thing you know, you’re at the register, thinking, “So what if I’m spending three hundred dollars? Look at all the stuff I bought! Look at how much money I saved! Plus it’s going on a credit card; I’ll pay it off in no time”.

And then another sale comes along… And another. You can’t pass this up. This is too good. “You’re winning!” – You reassure yourself. “You’re losing!” – Your credit card tells you months later when you’ve racked up thousands of dollars in purchases and hundreds of dollars in interest. And even then you’re like, well, I’m not stupid, I knew what I was doing. That’s the price you have to pay for being able to buy something and enjoy it and not have to pay for it ‘til later. That’s how credit cards work, duh. Except that you didn’t actually enjoy any of it other than the experience itself. You stashed most if not all of your newly acquired stuff away in your closet “until the right occasion” comes along. Now you’re stuck with a million and one more things than you know what to do with.  And now you’re paying interest on it. Good job. You’ve successfully screwed yourself. Here you were thinking that you were taking advantage of a good sale, and the whole time, they were taking advantage of you.

Needless to say, I myself am as guilty as anyone of this nonsense. Still, I refuse to call myself a shopaholic. That’s getting off too easy. Perhaps I’m just an asshole. Maybe I’ll pull a Southpark on this bitch and write a letter to the people responsible for changing the meaning of words, just like they did with “faggot”. At least then, there will be an official title for those with poor money managing skills or lack thereof, as well as inability to think clearly when presented with discount signs.

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