I fear I may be a totally frivolous person. *Sigh*

I think I may have a small shopping problem.  I have had it for awhile… well, actually, for about 40 years.   I was 16 when I got my first paycheck and I had to turn it over to my boss to cover my purchases.  I worked in a milliner’s shop.  Isn’t that charming and quaint?  I don’t think millineries even exist anymore.  The merchandise was charming and quaint as well, hence my incredible vanishing paycheck.  

For a great deal of the past 40 years, I was able to control the urge to splurge fairly easily.  I had no money.  Since we moved to Tennessee, however, our standard of living has just gone up, up, up.  I have been doing my best to ensure that my spending keeps pace with Dave’s earnings, but lately, I have become aware of some warning signs that maybe I am being just a bit, shall we say, OVER THE TOP about the whole redistribution of wealth thing.

First of all, local merchants have begun sending me cards if they haven’t seen me in awhile.   I’m not talking about the standard sales notifications, or general “special invitations” that thousands of others also receive.  No, no, no, no, no, I get handwritten notes.  

Second, I noticed that I got a LOT of Christmas cards last year from merchants, thanking me for my business.  I think I got 987, if I remember correctly.

Third, I am now getting gifts.  There is this absolutely wonderful shop here in town called “The Purple Cabbage” that, among other things, sells handmade and monogrammed clothing for children- all the things that drive a Granny wild, especially if Granny has four adorable granddaughters and the youngest two are a “girly girl” and a baby who adores dresses.  Today, because of my extreme loyalty to The Purple Cabbage, I was inducted into the “Kiss Club”, which means I will receive special invitations and advance notice of sales.   As a token of my new status, the lovely women who run the shop gave me a giant Hershey’s (best chocolate in the world) kiss.   So, okay, maybe not the best gift for a diabetic, but they LIKE me, they really, really like me.

Peebles likes me.  Macy’s likes me.  Dillards likes me.  Pottery Barn, Crate and Barrel, Williams-Sonoma… and don’t get me started on craft and scrapbooking stores, which ADORE me.   And I love them in return, though sometimes my love is unrequited.  For example, I single-handedly put Amazon.com into the black.   I was one of its first customers and, to this day, must be one of its best.  In the early days, when the company was struggling, my patronage was appreciated.  I used to get Christmas gifts from Amazon.com.  I still have and use the to-go cup I got one year, but you know, when they get big, they forget the little people who helped them on the way up.  JEFF BEZOS, YOU BROKE MY HEART IN 17 PLACES!

But I digress.  Lately, I have begun to wonder if I am using shopping to compensate for something lacking my life.  Obviously, things are not what I am lacking.  I am awash with things… and so, thanks to me, is everyone else in my immediate emotional vicinity.  I thought about it in great depth, and finally decided that I needed help-   Shopper’s Anonymous or some kind of a 12-step program.  And I found one!  The brochures were very heartening.  I was happy to learn that I am not alone, I am not a bad person, and, since I don’t put us in debt, I am not destined to be locked in a room by an irate husband and forced to undergo retail deprivation.  It really sounded like just the program for me, so I signed up.  And paid for a year in advance.

Sadly, I have not made it to a single meeting.  Some genius booked them into the mall.

Ciao, bellos.  There is a mocha frappuccino and some leather Italian sling-backs calling to me.   I’m coming, dahlings!