I have a problem. I like to call it a quirk or one of the unique things I do which make me, well.
Me - the one on the Left. But if you don't like this post, I am the one on the Right.
However, my husband thinks I have a “problem” and for that reason, I guess I need to honor that he is allowed to have an opinion. I mean, of course he is allowed to – Lord knows he always has one to give me.
He likes to call it constructive feedback.
I like to call it being a
pain in my ass. NOT constructive.
So my problem is something I know many of my readers will understand, if not empathize with.
I like to spend money. Like, according to hubby (nag, nag, nag) more than we have.
It’s not like I am going around buying Manolo Blahniks for my feet or Louis Vuitton purses or anything like that. I am more of a DSW girl myself and my feet are too wacked to wear anything much sexier than the geriatric brands like “Aerosoles.”
(You know, the brands that try to make you think they are cute but really are nursing shoes in disguise).
I don’t need fine wines. I am happy with the ten dollar bottle from Costco. Even cheaper sometimes.
I don’t buy the kids clothes from Nordstrom. It’s usually Old Navy after I have trolled every coupon site to basically walk out of the store feeling like I really did a number on those guys.
Fade to me fist pumping as I leave the store with the “Chariots of Fire” music playing in the background.
But for some reason, I just spend too much. Some (yes John, I am talking about you) might even call it, well.
I think that’s a bit harsh and I think people should be more careful about what words they use. I like to think of it as “frugally deficient.”
It’s not big things. It’s just a LOT of little things. Yes – I buy a LOT of little things, which – well they feel like big things when you add them all up.
We are on a first name basis with our FedEx and UPS guys. We receive packages almost every day at our house. Some of the packages are for things like quinoa. Did you know it’s much cheaper if you buy it in bulk on-line?
But here is an honest example of what has arrived on our doorstep over the past two weeks.
1) The “lipo in a box” girdle – I saw it on the Dr. Oz show when flying from Dulles to Boston on my last business trip. I knew at first sight that I HAD to have it so I could be a little more lenient on using my gym membership.
Spend less time at the gym! Or just be a sucker like me! (I saw this on Dr. Oz too!)
2) A new supplement which Dr. Oz says will make me feel more youthful. Because apparently, I don’t take enough already. And friends, let me be clear. If you have been diagnosed with fibromyalgia – you take a lot of pills a day. (Most of which I continue to buy via Amazon).
Supplements are good for you, so this is more like a co-pay. An insurance policy of sorts. I refuse to allow this to be used against me by anyone who might be taking count of all this (yes, I am talking to you, John).
Plus, Dr. Oz said it’s ok.
Geez – I am sensing a theme here.
3) Another Deepak Chopra book. Because you can never have enough inner peace. Even if it means running to the door before John can pick up the packages before me and I get the chance to hide the box in my office.
So, it’s no surprise that John is getting a little annoyed at me. Plus I have this habit of rounding down when he asks what something costs. Our conversations usually go something like this.
John: “How much did that cost?” (So romantic).
Me: “Oh, like 20 dollars.” ($28.99 to be exact. Marked down from $60, thank you very much).
John: “But why do you have two?” he’ll ask, pulling out the other pair of offending pair of shoes, sweater, guitar picks, (insert other things that offend my husband).
Me: “Oh, it was buy one, get the second one free,” I say, grateful that he hasn’t yet seen the third pair which I accidentally left under the driver’s seat in my car.
Or the receipt.
John: “Really? Wow, what a deal.” He looks at me suspiciously. I think he wishes he had a lie detector but if he mentioned something like that, he knows I would probably offer to go buy one on Amazon in a jiffy.
So, John met with our financial planners the other day. Unfortunately for me, this was also the same day I just happened to accidentally drive 20 miles out of my way (clear chance) to browse through some things at Guitar Center.
I walked in looking for a cable.
I ended up leaving with a new guitar.
How could I say no? I couldn't turn away once it made eye contact with me.
I knew this would not be good. Perhaps had I known that John was meeting at the same time with our financial planners for his birthday lunch, I would have taken greater care. I still knew I had to do this on the DL though.
“I need to use a Guitar Center credit card for this purchase,” I explained to the Sales rep. “I know this is going to sound really weird but….” I didn’t even need to explain.
“You’re trying to hide it from your husband. Gotcha.” He started typing into the system to pull up and reinstate my account. “It happens all the time.” He paused his typing. “Well it usually happens with husbands trying to hide their guitar, drums, bass or (insert expensive musical instrument here) from their wives, but dude, it happens all the time.”
Well good. That made me feel much better.
I drove home with my new guitar. When I got home, I asked our Au Pair, Monica if she thought that John would notice that I had a new guitar. She thought there might be a problem since this one was red and my current Martin and Yamaha were light brown and black, respectively.
I wondered briefly if John was color blind and I just didn’t know it.
I couldn’t lie. I had to tell him. After all, color blindness did not run in John’s genes.
So I called him. And I told him. Still fresh from the excitement of the lunch where he got to talk about money and other things that fascinate him the way that Suri Cruise’s wardrobe fascinates me, he had a long talk with me.
And that night we worked on a budget. My eyes glazed over a lot but I nodded my head at what I thought were appropriate points in the conversation.
I know the end goal is to make me more conscious of the impact of all my stupid “little purchases.” Though, yes – the lipo in a box, not so small. I know it’s to make me a better person, yada, yada, yada.
So. (twiddling my thumbs). Guess we’ll just have to see how that goes.
I’ll let y’all know how the lipo in a box works if your are interested. Email me