I’m an impulse shopper.
This means that over the past few years (we’ll start with college…no need to embarass myself beyond that), I’ve collected the most unimaginable, random, unneccessary, and worthless shit to ever grace this planet.
Granted, I’m quite good at “spring cleaning” on a fairly regular basis. But, I won’t dump anything until it has completed at least a full year of non-use. Which makes perfect sense. Add that together with the fact that I’m a style fiend and a sale-a-holic and you have a dangerous combination of unrealistic expectations and clouded judgement.
Unrealistic Expectation and Clouded Judgement #1: If I see an adorable and to-die-for pair of shoes in the clearance section on sale for only SIX DOLLARS, I’ll spend fifteen minutes squeezing all of the circulation out of my foot to make it fit inside a size 6. Even though I wear a 7.5-8.5. Once I’ve sort of completed the impossible, I’ll take a quick glance in the mirror, completely disregard the shooting pain and pinching sensation occurring near my toes, and agree with my own conscience that they look “fab.” Then, I’ll wear them once, realize after walking a block that my heels have been reduced to a bloody pulp, take them off, then either throw them away, or keep them in my closet “just in case” my feet decide to go anorexic.
It’s brilliant really. When you think about it, if I were to wear a pair of $30 shoes 5 times, that would come out to cost me about $6 each wear. Which is basically the same thing. Nevermind that I didn’t actually wear the child-sized beauties I’d previously purchased for more than 15 minutes. Still counts in my book.
Unrealistic Expectation and Clouded Judgement #2: Dollar sections are like porn for me. I will wander through the aisles of plastic boxes and glittery spoons (whaaaat?) for a solid ten minutes (minimum) dreaming up ridiculous reasons why that pair of blue tinted neon glasses are simply meant for me. It’s an addiction, really. You see the price and you think, “hey, that’s not bad at all! Just think of what I would have paid for this random flashing pen if it were in the regular aisle!” And so the distorted reality continues.
I’ll use these trinkets once, maybe twice. Then they’ll enter the black hole, otherwise known as the “junk drawer,” never to be seen again until I can no longer fit anything in the black hole and need to clean it out to create space for new black hole inhabitants. Wouldn’t want anything to feel excluded, now would we?
Unrealistic Expectation and Clouded Judgement #3: In my deluded mind’s eye, I think that I’m a school teacher and go through paperclips and markers like I’m Mrs. Frizzle. Excape that I’m not. On the rare occasion I have to use a binder clip at work (maybe once a month), it’s like I’ve just been given a shot of one of those energy boosters Madonna always swears by. I get all wiggly and excited and sometimes worry I may pee in my pants like an overly stimulated puppy. And anytime I receive a black and white document, I make up some excuse or another to “organize” it by coloring over the surface with at least four different highlighter colors.
Needless to say, I justify any and all purchases of staplers, tape, notebooks, folders, markers, highlighters, pens, pencils, pencil sharpeners, pencil erasers, notecards, permanent markers, post-its, and stickers. Because who wants to just use those boring yellow corporate-prescribed folders anyways?! We can just brush aside the fact that I still own colored pencils and have used them maybe once in all of my four years of college.
If I can be grateful for one thing, it’s that I can’t afford anything beyond sales and discount shops. Because Lord knows I’d have a closet full of Gucci if I had the chance. And I guarantee I’d justify it all. I’d probably even pay 40 bucks for a pad of paper.
Well…someone’s gotta buy it.
- Pencil, pencil, pencil (notdabblinginnormal.wordpress.com)