Psychological Spending

Note: I had planned on writing this post prior to kj’s comments on yesterday’s blog. Strange how friends can be connected like that, isn’t it? Anyway, with that said, let it begin.

Shopping. Shopping makes me feel good. Anyone who knows me knows this. Since the purchase of my house, I have resisted the urges to make frivolous purchases to stick to some sort of budget. “Budget” is used loosely; it has nothing to do with saving money or any stupid bullshit like that.

When I shop, a little “buy this to feel happy” voice screams to me, “So what if you don’t have a boyfriend; so what if you’re taller than average; so what if you don’t have friends here; so what if you’re fat… at least you have money to spend – buy, baby, buy!!” I’ve resisted this voice; I’ve been strong. (And no, I still haven’t resisted the “Don’t stop at two - eat the whole pizza,” or “One more line of coke won’t hurt you,” voices.)

In the last week, I’ve been feeling depressed and weak. In the last week, I’ve spent $500… not including the new Coach bag I put on Mr. Plastic (aka Mr. Mounting Debt). This has led me into phase two of my depression – “I do not have the money right now. How am I going to afford this crap??” Enter phase three – “I’m 26, making an engineer’s salary, and still taking money from my parents.” Well, you know the rest – robbery, drugs, feeding bugs to the homeless kid in my basement, and eating myself into another pant size.