Hi, my name is Jenn and I’m a shopaholic.
I sighed as I was writing the title to this post. I’m weak sometimes. Some people smoke, some people drink, and I … shop. I’d like to blame it on genetics. As a child, the closet in my room was filled with not mine, but my mother’s clothing. As was her closet, her chest of drawers, and an entire room in our old house.
Sometimes I actually believe that buying this or that will actually change my life. Like a pair of jeans will somehow pay my bills, do my dishes and clean my apartment. A lipstick will actually make me look like Kat Von D. I…must…have… (insert newest obsession). Just the other day, I had the discussion with Danielle about how I need to stop thinking about how good of deal something is, if I don’t have the money for it, I just won’t buy it.
And then I hit the mall. (To return something, I swear!)
Now, to rationalize my purchases a bit, I did include a clothes budget for myself every month. And then not only did I find the jacket I had been wanting last fall for less than half the price of what I was going to pay for it, I also found the boots I had been unsuccessful in finding (yes, I’m aware it’s summer, which brings my shopping addiction to a new low). I think my purchases through and I know that I would actually make use of these items, but then I stumbled across a cute top… and well, I’m sure you know how this story ends.
I would love to end this post with some kind of epiphany or something that would wrap this story up in a positive way to my financial future. But no, there was none of that.
There is just happiness as I look down at my new boots… And hunt for a second job.